


I will follow you into the dark

by Kthsbot



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Blow Jobs, CF Felix, Childhood Friends, Implied Ass Eating, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Internal Conflict, M/M, Mild Blood, duels, implied unrequited Dimivain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26917540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kthsbot/pseuds/Kthsbot
Summary: The kingdom’s blue banners are flying in the bold wind, announcing their arrival. It seems likely that a storm is coming along with the lions.Before he knows it, Felix yearns to be under the blue banners again.-Where Felix betrays in stages: himself, Dimitri and the empire.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Dimilix Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> BB journey was surprising, I expected this to be exactly 25k but here we go, the art in this fic was made by talented [Ana](https://twitter.com/norainacad) , she has such beautiful art and style, you can check her and her amazing art out!!
> 
> Also, lots of thanks go to my beta reader [Jo](https://twitter.com/joooocat) , you helped with this sm!!
> 
> You can check out this playlist while reading, it reminds me a lot of Dimilix, [Dimilix angst](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1NWSg7uGhu9zZouo49LJxD?si=wVd-S3U0RnmzLAozYD5RsQ)

There is not much that Felix can remember of his childhood,. except they are by far the happiest days of his life. Back when he would go through his days chasing Glenn, eavesdropping on the lessons and never-ending training his father gave him. Nights were when he, Dimitri, Sylvain, and Ingrid would spend time, just the four of them as their laughter filled Fhirdiad. Sweet nights, back in Felix’s memory, locked on, they are good, his favorites. He’d like it if they stayed that way. 

Long ago, when he first met Dima, bowing down the way his father instructed him to the days before, it came easy as he watched people bend in front of his father, when Felix rose, two innocent wide sky blue eyes landed on him, Felix stared at them, mouth fell open dumbly, ‘can a pair of eyes be that big’, his brain contemplated on. 

When Dimitri beamed at him brightly, Felix thought he won the lottery that day. That’s my new friend, he thought as their fingers tangled in a promise of seeing each other again. 

Friend, a word foreign to Felix, yet it suits Dimitri perfectly when he holds onto his hand. 

He recalls telling his old man, “His eyes are two blue moons, father.” As he shapes his fingers like circles. Rodrigue laughed at him then, ruffled his hair, and then called them royal blue eyes and Felix, innocently committed the words into his memory. 

Felix's heart is strange at times and he doesn’t understand, a feeling that comes easy when he holds swords, or with Dimitri around. He turns a blind eye to it until it hopefully fades away peacefully. The same way he should learn to do instead of crying horribly to Sylvain every time Dimitri does not accompany them, whining and pouting whenever Dimitri is busy with princely tasks or when Glenn and Dimitri are assigned together for something. If truth be told, whenever something doesn’t go Felix’s way.

Dimitri is apologetic, Felix notes. His eyes are filled with something between guilt and a plea every time the king, Lambert speaks of Blaiddyd and Fraldarius' friendships, or regarding Dimitri’s future with the royal advisor, Glenn, praising his talent. 

Felix doesn’t grasp the reason his heart wavers and wants to tear up, to steal away Dimitri from all of them. It’s simple, he wants to protect Dimitri, to help and serve him. 

Felix is born after Dimitri, yet close to his birthday and he likes to think of it as a present. 

The kingdom sky lights up at night similar to the sun on that special day, and the king throws feasts and balls for the young prince, and the people dance to the sound of his heart. 

And little Felix, he only carries his gift between small fingers, his face gleaming with fresh tears at the frightening noise of the fireworks. 

Dimitri runs to Felix when he spots him, so sweet, and unlike Glenn, he takes the present effortlessly and plants a gentle kiss at the top of Felix’s cheek. Felix crimsons against it, red when Dimitri thanks him. The prince has the whole world to celebrate with, yet he chooses Felix to share his happiness. 

They sneak late at night to read from history books and novels that the librarian lady gave to Dimitri. While Dimitri is busy flaming the damp wood torches, Felix insists to bring the heavy sheets to lay under, and prove that Dimitri isn’t stronger than he is. 

With Dimitri, Felix talks and doesn’t hinder his thoughts or the way his fingers trail on Dimitri’s own. With Dimitri Felix giggles, and cries. 

“See, Loog and Kyphon didn’t have a child,” Dimitri claims, pointing his finger at a particular page. 

“Why does that matter Dima?,” He huffs. “They defeated so many enemies and their adventures are still talked about.” 

“Yes, but Fe, I’m saying we could be fighting so many opponents _and_ still have a child together, we could combine our strength and raise him to be the greatest warrior.” Dimitri continues to argue.

“Together?” Felix seems more considerate when Dima mutters, “That’s what father says happens when two people love each other.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Felix agrees lastly. 

“They get married and have children,” Dimitri emphasizes, while staring fondly at the drawing of the heros, they bear resemblance to them, and if Felix grows his hair longer than Glenn does, Felix wants to be drawn next to Dimitri in their armors. 

“G-get married?” Felix feels himself redden, heat spreading uncontrollably to his cheeks. “You want to get married to me?” He slurs, pointing at himself and there is something soothing about the way Dimitri doesn’t understand the reason Felix falls startled at the proposal, almost as if it’s natural that they get wed.

“You do not?” Dimitri asks, confused.

“Y-yes, I do.” Felix answers too quickly.

However, the more Felix grows up, the more he realizes, he isn’t Dimitri’s Kyphon nor his bride. Glenn assures Felix that they don’t have to be Kyphon and Loog, they are greater as Felix and Dimitri. 

Felix believes him. 

Still, it’s hard to be the prince’s best friend, difficult when you want something more than that. What’s Felix’s use when he already has a shield, he already has his Kyphon.

Kyphon, was the sworn friend of Loog and that was enough for the tales and books. 

It’s hard to be the prince’s best friend because he already has a future written for him. Dimitri can’t get to decide anything. Not like Felix truly does, he was raised to serve the king, and he was left to be himself. Dimitri was born to serve the kingdom. It’s hard, but Felix lives for challenges. 

On the other hand, no matter how Felix studies it, he can’t make sense of it; Is it alright to care for this blue marble eyed child, Is it alright for his matters to pain Felix so infinitely that he wants to free the prince? Shouldn’t being a prince be really magnificent? Then, why does Dimitri feel so trapped?

The notions trail on his mind, he’ll dwell on them later, when they go back to their territory. They always do, there is always a goodbye between him and Dimitri. But for now, he doesn’t have to worry about it, he hasn’t met Dimitri since they arrived at night. Luckily he knows where to find him this morning. 

So he roams, strolls throughout the castle, sure steps when he approaches the thumping of their steps echoing on the ground. The sun is high and up on Fhirdiad as usual, and Felix lives this memory again, almost memorizing it this time. 

Finally, he catches the glimpse of his brother and the prince dueling, their swords clashing, glistening around them and on Felix’s eyes. Dimitri doesn’t break swords from the second swing anymore. He is in control of the weapon, more focused on beating his opponent. _This_ is his favorite Dimitri, sweat drops falling, breeze teasing his golden locks and blue eyes gleaming with a hunger for victory. 

A grin steals Felix’s lips. 

“What happened, your highness? You seem about to break, weaker than I remember.” He hears Glenn, smug with a very visible smirk on his face and Felix decides to announce his presence. He is ready just as he is keen for a match with one of them. “Dima!! Come on, you know you can beat him.” Felix cheers for him, sword already in hand, anticipating his turn.

Dimitri smiles big and warm as summer, like he wasn’t preying on Glenn, wearing a predator’s eyes and breaking hands.

“Felix, you little shit you’re supposed to cheer for your brother! Don’t be like father, all siding with Dimitri.” Felix just laughs in his face and watches them, studies their footwork. It’s been said that Glenn fights like a dancer, and Felix can see easily why; you can’t take your eyes off his steps as he shapes art and Felix reminds himself, he has yet to defeat Glenn, to be by Dimitri’s side.

Lastly, Glenn claims victory with a satisfied smile, hair damp and glued to his face. 

Dimitri disposes his sword in the yard and hurries to Felix’s side hugging him, rubbing his sweaty face into Felix’s, and who is Felix to complain about the prince?

“I’ve missed you so, Fe,” Dimitri says all dramatically, and so adoringly, Felix hums happily while pressing back at his side, uncaring of Dimitri’s gross wetness. 

They catch up on everything they’ve done, even when they exchange letters, they aren’t enough to portray Dimitri. They waste the morning and day to chat, it’s only a few hours until Felix has to share Dimitri with Sylvain and Ingrid. 

The first time Sylvain takes them to their 'secret hill' they're eagerly following him, for some reason they trusted him. 

They agreed to meet before sunrise and after he and Sylvain spent the entire evening convincing Dimitri to ditch breakfast with the adults, and Ingrid had decided on escaping from her room too. 

Sylvain brought some baked goods, as he promised them, ‘there are other enjoyments likewise on the training ground.’, Felix still thinks it’s nonsense but Dimitri bears an odd excitement when the older friend mentions a picnic on the top of the hill.

And so, they meet up in the cold morning, Sylvain and Felix are hardly awake, while the other two are filled with enthusiasm, lighting their yellow hair. They drag them to run long and high, racing so fast, Felix thinks he can fly. Yet, Sylvain stays walking at a natural pace, taunts at how they’ll get tired later, and Sylvain isn’t going to carry anyone around, so Felix slows down. 

Sylvain is older than them and at that time, they believed he was the most knowledgeable. He understood more about crests, more about training, and even politics. He speaks so elegantly, that the king would welcome his ideas.

He is always awfully pleasant, even when his brother would curse him in front of them. Sylvain would laugh it off and return to chattering about girls, again and again, as if that would make it all alright. 

So they follow him without a question. 

It doesn’t take a great deal of time for them to realize that they’ve gotten lost, no one is surprised when they do. Felix collapses on some rock while Dimitri and Ingrid lecture Sylvain on this mess. Mostly, it's Ingrid yelling something about how he invariably does this. 

Felix wants to feel sorry for Sylvain but his throat is dry as the desert, and Dimitri has his eyebrows knitted along with a displeased look on his face.

Even when they rebuke Sylvain, everyone trusts him to find a way, he always does. This time is no different, Sylvain begins drawing the paths he memorized on the ground. Without warning, he smugly declares, "We're so close!", A relieved sigh leaves them all, and they advance to climb up further while they listen to Sylvain praising himself. 

Thank the goddess, they arrive on time right before the sun welcomes the capital. The long field awaits them, empty and anticipating the sun. As the sun melts into the sky, they can’t help it but gasp at the scenery. From the crown of the hill, they can see most of Fhirdiad, the sun is at the end of their world and they're at the beginning. He feels his face warming when the sun shines at them and only them. Meanwhile, the picnic baskets are long forgotten on the fresh green. 

He quickly turns to catch Dimitri’s gaze as it follows the sun, to make certain he is watching this. The prince has his hands fisted, eyes smiling at the sun, piercing as they contrast against the golden yellow around them. 

Dimitri notices Felix’s eyes on him and peers back at him, and swiftly runs to him. Felix’s eyes snap in shock when he picks him up and shows him the world, high, higher and Felix sees the sun whole, sitting upon Dimitri's shoulders and suddenly, it’s not so cold anymore. 

The next few days aren’t as happy. 

One day, they find Sylvain in a swamp with his eyes welled up, a rare sight to both Dimitri and Felix. They hurry through the mud to help the older. 

Felix truly thinks it’s the first time he has seen Sylvain cry, and Dimitri catches him before he wipes one last tear. Felix stands still, listening as Dimitri asks too many questions, and Felix watches how Sylvain tries to brush it off. Dimitri, stubborn as ever, does not quit, so Sylvain brings himself to explain, tries to tell them that his older brother's friends bully him on the regular. He vaguely speaks of his brother’s attempts at accidentally killing him and caging him in the dark sunken well.

He speaks, with a full-hearted laugh, stammering over words and his brother’s name. 

Dimitri’s brows are joined similar to whenever he thinks of injustice or the way Glenn frowns when someone talks of Miklan. Felix studies Sylvain, and realizes, he doesn't know a way to comfort him. Encouraging words are difficult on his tongue, "we will fight them." he proposes. Both Dimitri and Sylvain gawk at him, and just at once, they begin to chuckle.

"Let's inform Glenn," Dimitri suggests, but Felix knows if they bring Glenn into this, no doubt his father would be in on it too. 

"Why should we, when we finally have such worthy opponents?" Felix grins, wide and anticipating. It's unusual for Felix to smile big and silly, he isn't surprised when Dima is staring at him startled and on the cusp of giggling. Felix grasps both of their hands within his firm hold. "I won't let anyone intimidate you!" He tells them, honest to the Goddess. Despite Sylvain being a bonehead, Felix still can’t bear seeing him with shed tears and a defeated smile.

Hence, it’s how they wind up in the mansion’s stable, and later end up in the mansion’s infirmary. Indeed, the three of them would probably be able to destroy them, if they knew how to open a stable without climbing above it.

When Felix wakes up, there is a thumping pain shooting up his arm, a mere glance at his limp body is plenty for him to guess he broke a limb or two. 

He painfully turns his head towards whoever is around him, and he blurts out the first thought that flashed to his mind, "Is Dimitri fine?" He says as he feels water prick at the corners of his eyes. 

When his sight focuses, he distinguishes Glenn’s figure heaving a sigh and holding his chin, stroking gently, so unlike Glenn, but Felix likes it. They don't hug much, he and Glenn, though their father seems very fond of physical affection and kissing at their foreheads, especially Felix’s. 

"Dimitri is fine, are _you_ alright?" His eyes are soft and a rare smile quirks up at his lips. 

Felix nods despite feeling like his head would reasonably explode with blood rushing down his ears.

“May I go see Dimitri?” He asks dreading the answer if it was ‘no’. They broke too many rules for him to have the cheek and rise from his bed despite the answer, and it’s obvious what it is by the disapproving look Glenn shoots him, meanwhile his father speaks from a distance, “No, you can’t go mister.” 

_Here comes the scolding_ , Felix thinks and exhales. “I just want to be certain he is fine,” Felix persuades, determined. 

“While I’m glad you care for his highness’ health, Felix, I think you should be wary of your health too, don’t you agree?” His father speaks, stern, and careful. 

Felix frowns. “Certainly not,” he mumbles and to his side, Glenn grins. 

“What if I bring his highness here, hmm? How would you thank me later, dear Felix?” Glenn baits, amusement twinkling in his eyes, waiting for Felix to hide his painfully red cheeks. 

“Don’t indulge him, Glenn.” His father remarks displeased, approaching Felix’s bed. He tenderly places a faint hand on his brow, “Out of ten, Felix, how much does it hurt?” He asks.

“A lot.” Felix sulks unhappily and defeatedly. 

Within seconds and with magic, the soreness fades, not wholly but instantly and easily. Felix could kiss his father. He smiles dumbly, “Father please heal it again.” 

“If I do so, you’ll go ahead and repeat it.” His father hums, and he isn't wrong, Felix can’t find it in himself to counter his father’s words, so he tries one last method, and he pouts in return, “But father,” he whines. Sometimes, his father would wait for them to remain alone to treat his wounds again, and he wordlessly hopes it’s one of those times. 

“Lay down here for a time, let your injuries heal, and then maybe tomorrow morning you can see his highness.” His father informs him.

“Morning?” Felix exclaims. 

“Tomorrow night, then.” 

“Morning is fine, it’s great.” He hurries his words and he can glimpse a thin smile resisting on his father’s front. 

And a burst of faint laughter in the back. 

He will take his vengeance on Glenn someday, but tonight, he wishes for Dimitri to sleep soundly. 

Felix finds parting from Dimitri harder when Glenn is appointed as a knight. There isn’t as much competition around his house, his father duels sometimes with him, but only when he isn’t busy; unluckily, he always is.

Sylvain spends the summer at the Fraldarius region, and sometimes Ingrid tags along, especially after she got engaged to Glenn. Sylvain tells him he feels sorry for her and Felix doesn’t understand why, he has seen Glenn receive many love letters, many admire him, he is a good person; Sylvain must be jealous. 

It’s only some months until the next kingdom holiday, and Felix can’t wait for it.

The kingdom throws the biggest festivals and lively balls that kids aren’t allowed in, even though Felix figures he is a grown-up now and should be allowed to drink from the fancy wine bottles. 

It’s fine because he and Dimitri wind up on Sylvain's hill, just as lovely at night, full of stars they can gaze at better than in the capital, where there are no city lights and no one to bother Felix and Dimitri. 

They tell Sylvain to follow them, though he is occupied with some girls, and Felix doesn't hide his excitement for having the prince to himself. They'll read more and more on history, Felix will whine about studies he doesn't care about, they're boring next to gleam swords and lances. He knows that Dimitri agrees, yet the young prince listens and insists they're necessary to grow strong.

Ingrid stays with Glenn naturally, she enjoys hearing about his stories and Glenn doesn't seem to mind. It appears, however, that he likes narrating about his fights at the dining table with nobles more than the chivalry stories that make Ingrid's eyes shine; both of them are different in ways, but they're somewhat similar. 

He and Dimitri race to the summit of the hill, and Felix’s hair caresses the cool breeze as he keeps running alongside Dimitri, their giggles filling the countryside. Dimitri wins their little contest, he lays happily on the green, silky hair splattered around the dirt. This is Felix's favorite place in Fhirdiad. He, of course, won't tell Sylvain that. 

It's the dearest place to his heart since Dimitri drops the facade of a prince here, becomes Dimitri again. He appears to belong here; eyes like the moon, with the stars coloring them. Dimitri is something between the sun and the moon, he knows, however, that Dimitri is the best of them. 

Felix settles the book between the two of them and flips through the pages intently. 

Everything stays perfect until Dimitri has pointed at a Loog and Kyphon, to state that he and Glenn will grow to be them. 

Blame Felix, but his heart feels torn. 

"I- I thought it would be us, you and me." Dimitri's eyes stay glued on the book when Felix speaks. "Dimitriii." He whines again. His eyes all hooked on Dimitri, hopeful and urgent for an answer, surely Dimitri meant it another way, "Yes, Felix." He says flatly and turns another page, so Felix quickly seizes the book from his hands, and Dimitri is still not looking at him.

He isn't very proud of grabbing the prince's silky collar forcefully, but it works. "Dimitri, answer me." His voice quivers at its ends and Felix knows he is on the verge of crying. He’ll be teased about it later but he wants an answer now desperately, and Dimitri is quiet, tearing his eyes away again. "I didn't mean it that way." the prince whispers. 

"You did, I can see through it when you lie, Dimitri! Quit lying to me, you too, you too agree with father and his majesty?" 

"Felix, would you let go of me? Please."

Why does it have to be that way, always? He wishes Sylvain had joined them today, they would dispute with him instead.

He is about to let go of him when Felix clumsily falls on himself, hauling Dimitri with him and his heavy body is on Felix when they're tumbling down on the hill. He hears their screams and he hardly registers his voice, he shuts his own eyes and the grass lets them roll promptly as they hold each other for their dear life. 

It's at last peaceful, only him and the boy under his body heavily panting. Felix slowly blinks his eyes open, he can sense wetness on his cheeks, and he hopes it's the freshly quenched grass on him and not his tears, just like it's on Dimitri's face. While Felix strives to glance, his vision blurs with tears, and the next minute he is sobbing on his clammy palms. Of course, he started crying, he is beginning to think he knows nothing but that, Dimitri deserves a better friend than him. 

"Fe..." Dimitri trails when Felix senses his hands yanked gently from his face and then there are Dimitri's eyes, lucid between the tears, dazzling like the sun. He wants to mend things and instead, he only bawls his eyes out for Dimitri to soothe him when he should be the stronger one, who can protect Dimitri when it's needed. "I'm sorry," Felix weeps, words barely audible. The hands covering his are warm, thumbs stroking at his wrist.

"What are you apologizing for, I'm the one who is weighty." Felix can discern it now, a small soothing smile on Dimitri’s lips and it makes the child snivel more, Dimitri is good to him. He isn't obliged to be anything for Felix, if anything; Felix is acting selfishly, his heart hammering loudly. Dimitri is so good, Felix affirms as his tears fall further.

They perch where they've fallen, fresh grass beneath them. Felix plays with it and nervously picks a handful of them off the spot. 

"I should've been more clear about it, this is my fault." Dimitri’s voice overcasts with sadness, staring beyond Felix as if he wronged him. Felix eyes him regardless, why is he apologetic?

"I can't see a future without you, Felix, this is silly of me but..." Dimitri looks nervous, worrying his lips. Felix knows he has a habit of collecting his thoughts to an eloquent speech before he talks his mind, sometimes it’s frustrating, but now it’s just making Felix concerned, he has never witnessed him like that. "But?" he encourages. 

"I have this belief that Glenn sees me as a duty. No, I know that he does, and... eventually so will Sylvain and Ingrid, they all will leave and turn to their adult dilemmas, is it terrible of me to ask for one friend who sees me for simply me, who will stay?"

"You know nothing." Felix just about shouts grimly and sits properly to speak, "You're not allowed to assume what people think of you, if I want to stay forever by your side as a duke, it's none of your concern, your highness." He takes a deep breath as he continues to rumble, "Look at my father, he loves his majesty, and he has been in his service long enough. You really are an idiot Dimitri, and I'll keep calling you that when you take the crown." Felix stumbles on words. "I- I mean when the time comes" he finally shuts himself up as he sees the prince's mouth fall ajar, he murmurs, "I'm sorry, I know his majesty is in his early years. I shouldn't have said that."

"Who is this going shouting and blabbing about his majesty?" a thick voice comes. Felix feels his cheeks burning, ashamed, and he and Dimitri stare at each other ghastly. Uncertainty coats Dimitri’s face, Felix knows he is already making an excuse, to justify their gossipings. Hopefully, the stranger didn’t listen for long. "What should we do?" he whispers. Dimitri peers up at the hill, waiting to see who had been listening to them. 

"It seems as if this idiot is my dear of a brother." the voice adjusts to Glenn's and they both heave a sigh and Felix has to lay his back on the softness under him in relief. He is grateful it’s only the older, so is Dimitri he realizes as their gaze meets, Dimitri’s eyes relaxed at the familiar voice, his lips are on the cusps of drawing a smile, "Glenn! You frightened us." Felix chides, and his head twirls around to spot his brother, but it’s not nearly sightful during the night.

They hear an amused laugh as Glenn approaches them from above the hill, "maybe you shouldn't discuss the matters of heart out in the public, your grace." Felix hears the amusement flickering his tone, Glenn clearly having fun with the scare he just gave them, his voice is closer now and it's seconds before Felix feels the flick of fingers on his forehead, "Glenn!!!" but the older snickers shamelessly.

Felix wants to hide his face, ‘matters of the heart?’ What is this fool hinting at? 

Though Dimitri's grin grows at Glenn. "I found this at the top,” Glenn remarks as he throws the book they’ve abandoned earlier near Felix’s face, “how could you leave the present from his highness there so carelessly?" He teases and Felix knows he relishes every second of it. The way his brows shoot in a fake concern of the book or the smile tugged at his cheeks for his dimple to almost show up. Felix knew it all, but thankfully, Dimitri didn’t get the cues Glenn threw aimlessly. "Glenn... please," Dimitri mutters and no one blocks Felix when he springs at Glenn, pushing him to the ground and ruining his precious hair. Glenn was taller, broader and not so easy to keep under Felix’s strength, but his brother let him, giggling beneath his arms, 

"Aren't you supposed to be in that ball?" He scowls and holds the book against his heart.

"Felix, as if I enjoy dancing. I wish I wasn't allowed there too." Glenn complains. 

"What happened?" Felix asks bluntly, slumping off Glenn. 

"Lord Lonato’s son is a moron." 

"You think everyone is a moron." Dimitri indicates. 

"They are, Dimitri," Glenn affirms. 

"What was his name again?" Felix asks. 

"Christophe. I hope they deliver another child or our military strategies are done, his father is clever nonetheless." Dimitri shoots him a concerned look. "Don't worry Dimitri, I won't leave it to him," Glenn assures. "Now let's go back. The king had sent me searching for you." 

The king has planned a trip to Duscur to sign a peace treaty with them. What Felix doesn’t understand is the need for Dimitri to accompany him. 

Although Felix sulks plenty when he hears the news of Dimitri’s departure, he is happy for the prince. Dimitri shows excitement at the arrangement, he wants to watch grown-up meetings, help with the kingdom affairs. Dimitri is the crowned prince, he’ll have enough responsibilities and he is keen to be in charge of it. 

They have arguments, and it’s only because Felix wants to spend every last minute with Dimitri, he creates chaos. Even Sylvain grins knowingly at Felix, yet Dimitri stays oblivious at Felix’s quarreling about the silliest matters. 

Late at night, Felix sneaks to the royal’s bedroom. He just wants to make certain he said his last goodbye without anyone’s eyes on them, he knows the room by hand. He is careful when he steps in, Dimitri’s room is dappled with gold, emeralds and everything princesses wish for in books. The sheets are silky on Felix’s skin as he plants himself in them, putting his arm awkwardly around the prince’s body. The figure shuffles next to him, wide blue eyes looking at him, so bright in the dark Felix thinks they might be two captured stars. 

“Wanted to wish you luck before tomorrow, I- I’ll miss you.” He murmurs to Dimitri’s ear.

Dimitri beams, “is that a sorry for earlier?” He whispers back. 

Felix strays his gaze away and mumbles a shameful ‘yes’. 

“I’ll miss you more,” the young prince says right to his ear, hugging him tightly.

“I wish I was going in Glenn’s place, I’m even better than him with swords now.” He buries his face in the silky yellow hair, breathing it in.

“I wish I was staying here with you, we can train together and pester Sylvain.” Felix can hear the curl of Dimitri’s lip as he mutters the words to his ear. 

Felix smiles into his hair. “Every time we fight, I do it enough.” he continues, "In the morning I'll walk you to the king's wagon." and Dimitri nods, closing his eyes and drifting away. 

Felix knows no one is allowed to stay in the prince’s room, but Dimitri keeps overlooking all of the rules merely when it comes to him.

Felix remembers the times when he cried into Sylvain’s arms, sobbing, _‘he can snap as many weapons as he wants, even his majesty’s gift, just let him stay.’_ and he would’ve truly let him break his favorite swords if they let him stay with Felix, even Sylvain knows that Felix is true to his words as he scoffs at him, and calls Dimitri, _“See what you did Dimitri, you’re always making this kid cry.”_ Felix is to his left, sniffling down the tears, waiting for Dimitri to say his sorrys for leaving him and hug him tightly, instead, Felix recalls the king as he smiles softly at Felix while clueless Dimitri mumbles apologies and how he didn’t mean to argue with Felix, he didn’t intend on making him cry. 

Rodrigue takes Felix’s palm between his hands as Sylvain releases him. _“Did you say your goodbyes to Glenn son?”_

Felix looks up at him, eyes watering again and pouting _“Glenn will be with Dima and they will have fun, if anything he should be coming to me.”_ His father stands confused, attempting at soothing Felix, it’s a poor one as Felix continues to weep. Sylvain holds himself from laughing then. ‘ _Goddess, he and Glenn are such little shits to their father.’_ he says.

Hence, he made sure this morning, he’d say proper goodbyes to Dimitri. A strange tender heat fills him whole, the warmth of glancing at Dimitri’s face before he rises adding to it. It’s been some time since this feeling has conquered him, despite being unfamiliar, it’s welcomed. 

Dimitri slowly wakes up, not like Glenn, quick and grumpy. Dimitri is peaceful, beautiful even with the slightly joined brows. There is a smile that grows fast on his lips when he recognizes who is beside him, Felix wants to kiss it. 

Oh. 

Felix swallows, he must be making a very ugly face now. He _knows_ he is because Dimitri’s smile turns to a perplexed pout. 

Felix wants to kiss it. Wants to push his lips on Dimitri’s and the crease between his blonde brows, on the pale cheeks instead, he licks his lips and stares at Dimitri's face. 

Dimitri isn’t a lady, Dimitri is the _crowned prince._ Dimitri doesn’t see him in _this_ fashion. 

But Felix so badly wants to lean in. 

“Good morning, Felix.” He says as he rubs his eyes, voice thick with drowsiness. “Have you slept well? You look strange.”

He only hums, afraid of foreign words coming out of his mouth.

“Are you hungry? Let us get ready, shall we.” 

Felix remembers, today is another day where Dimitri leaves him. The notion of Dimitri now brings him to the verge of dying of embarrassment, and still, his heart lingers, harping on the feeling of Dimitri’s lips and hair tangled between his fingers. 

They’ll meet after Duscur and then, Felix will muster the courage. 

***

With time, Felix realizes happiness doesn’t last, not at all. Happiness is scarce, it doesn’t come from prayers to the Goddess as they were taught from a young age. 

It doesn’t come at all after the day Glenn is announced dead. 

It only comes as a relief when his eyes land on Dimitri’s figure, he is here. Among the living when they arrive at the capital.

His father had prepared to leave their territory the instant he heard of the evil massacre. He doesn’t provide Felix any details, tells him he has to leave and Felix annoyingly so begs to go with him.

It’s the first time his father yells at him, sharp and furious that Felix stumbles on his feet. The stories must be true. The royal family is dead, his brother is dead, Dimitri is dead. 

And ever so the cry baby Felix is, let his tears gush as an effort to get his father to yield, to bring Felix along. If he doesn’t see Dimitri with his eyes, if he doesn’t hold him against his body, he won’t rest. 

The first awful news comes quickly as the light. Everyone on the carriages to Duscur was slaughtered, the rumors say the Duscur people had murdered them. He hears his father’s voice composed and strong in front of the royal knight who trembles. His father asks about Glenn first. ‘ _Dead_.’ The knight hisses. 

‘His majesty?’

 _‘Dead_.’

‘His highness, Dimitri?’ 

_‘Dead.’_

Felix runs to his room at the words, the thumping on his head heavy, with tears and grief he can’t fathom. It consumes him, and he searches messily at the letters he and Dimitri wrote for each other. Felix rips a new paper to write for Dimitri, explaining to him what ridiculous news they speak of him. ‘ _Dimitri, they think you’re dead,_ _Dimitri I haven’t kissed you yet. Dimitri, I’m pitiful I can’t hold my tears.’_ Felix can’t feel his fingers as he writes, can’t discern the words as water piles up within his eyes, ink blurred with tears. 

_Glenn_ , Felix thinks lastly. Glenn is dead too. 

It’s five hours, five horrible endless hours before a messenger arrives. Felix has collapsed asleep from weeping. He wakes upon his father’s lap, his surroundings unfamiliar, shaky when he rubs some more on his eyes. 

“We’re on our way to Fhirdiad.” His father whispers, softly pressing a kiss on the side of his head. 

“Glenn?” Felix mutters, groggily. 

“Dimitri is well.” 

“Glenn?” Felix repeats. 

His father falls silent before he utters, “He did his duty.” 

Felix doesn’t understand then, sleep heavy on his eyes. He envies when he has never understood. 


	2. Chapter 2

They keep visiting Fhirdiad on national holidays because his father insists that they can't leave Dimitri alone. Felix pretends to be bothered and masks the excitement that flows through him, given that, in another week it will be the tragedy’s memory. 

It's been a year, he recalls, while Rodrigue packs some gifts for the prince. Last year the king had gifted Glenn a sword forged with gold by the best swordsmith of Fodlan. It’s an emblem, of course, he can’t fight with gold. A bittersweet memory hinders on Felix’s mind, in customary fashion Dimitri and Glenn clashed swords the next day as Glenn mocked the prince for his repetitive attacks, pointing out flaws and blind spots, yet as he neared Felix he muttered, "It's getting tougher to beat this brat." 

He remembers that day distinctly, drilled into his memory.

His father puts some things for Sylvain and Ingrid too, while asking Felix what he is getting for the prince. ‘It must be something befitting.’ He affirms, _Must I tell you?_

Felix has been giving it some thought, what could he give to Dimitri, and only Dimitri? What has been Dimitri craving? He rummages through the letters they have been exchanging. It bears unusual sadness to his heart, Dimitri doesn't respond as often anymore but it's enough for Felix.

Dimitri writes about his 'mother's sweets', 'mother's cookies,' and 'mother's food.' as if it’s all that’s left of his mother’s memory, would it make him happy? Felix doesn't want Dimitri to tear up again, reminding him of painful events and old ghosts. He wants him to hold onto life like before, and after so long. 

Glenn would’ve ridiculed him if he saw the young Fraldarius baking and Felix would pick a fight with him over it. "It's for Dimitri, he will appreciate this unlike you." He would've backbit, and Glenn would take a cookie anyhow. 

Drops shed from Felix’s eyes, and he sinks his teeth into his lips. Everything should’ve been different, he conceives. 

Meanwhile, they spring their run to Fhirdiad, Rodrigue checks on him from time to time, as Felix grows anxious about meeting the prince, and his lone comfort is memories from the past. He remembers receiving the most gifts of them all, sometimes Ingrid would forget Sylvain's gift (purposely) he'd pout and tell her he'll get something better from the king. 

He wonders if Dimitri has that vassal from Duscur around him yet, Dedue. Felix didn’t pay him any mind at the funeral but he follows Dimitri around everywhere, and it bothers Felix. While his heart jabs at recalling him, he is much more worried about his gift. Dimitri used to indulge Felix exceedingly, with gifts, his favorite food, and anything Felix fancied but that was before, when the kingdom was rich and when they weren't drowning in grief. 

However, when they arrive, all of his concerns vanish upon seeing the prince’s face. Felix hasn't seen Dimitri since the burial of the royal family, and so he doesn’t leave his side the moment they meet, especially, since Dimitri’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes the way it used to.

When the sun sets and the moon graces on them, they both twirl slowly in the palace’s garden swing. Felix tells him he had prepared something for him and Dimitri's smile at least looks sincere now. Felix takes his hand and leads their steps to the mansion's kitchen, running through hallways and to where he had hidden the baked goods.

Dimitri questions hesitantly if it's ok to go downstairs to the kitchen, and Felix insists that it's his home, _it should be fine._

The cook welcomes them in and Felix signals to Dimitri to sit. Excited now, he uncovers the sweets as the sickly fresh bread and savory aroma hovers over their noses, and he places them delicately on their small table in front of the prince. 

"Oh, is the young lord a good baker? those hands of yours aren't only skilled with swords and combat I see," the cook praises as Felix latches his hand to his nape embarrassed. He wishes he receives the compliment from someone else, _Dimitri_ , to be precise, he has worked hard for it, it doesn’t beat the castle’s delicious desserts, but Felix is sure they’re still edible. "This is my first time, truly," he states nervously. His eyes fall on the prince, brows furrowing, Dimitri stays quiet.

He watches patiently, "Dimitri, try them. I-I made them for you." He hopes Dimitri doesn't laugh at him when he stammers his words. Felix waits and wishes Dimitri had laughed, or even flung the entire platter instead of sitting as the corner of his eyes teared up, to Felix horrification. He aims to not fright as he crouches down next to Dimitri. "Dimitri, what's wrong?" he asks but his voice comes just as brittle as he feels. 

Dimitri doesn't answer, he clenches the planted fists in his pants and Felix examines around them, to be certain no one is listening. He is relieved when he notices the cook has left them in peace.

Why hadn't he waited until Sylvain arrived, he could've even asked Dedue to join them. Instead, he is panicking here, struggling to reach Dimitri, and can't even offer words. 

"I-I can't taste anymore." Dimitri squeaks at his side, he takes a breath and brings his sleeve into his wet face. "After Duscur, the healer said she can't fix it but... someday. One day I might be able to again." 

Oh, oh. 

"I'm sorry Felix, I'm so sorry. They smell good. I love it. I'm sor-" Dimitri shakes his head immediately, and Felix couldn’t stand but to cut him off, "why are you apologizing, idiot. you should've told me what happened, you never tell me anything until it's too late." he huffs.

"I'm sorry." Dimitri pouts at him

"Stop apologizing already!" Felix exclaims.

"They appear delicious, I should try one." Dimitri grasps one from the table and bites into it. Felix sits next to him, warmth stirring inside him. "I assumed it'd be rigid but it's very well made, Felix," he remarks as he takes another bite. His eyes are calm now, dried tears still evident on his pink cheeks. Felix's eyes glisten at the praise, "of course they are, I made them! However, the taste is dreadful. You should've seen the servant's effort not to offend me when she tried them." He grins, it's a lie. They taste wonderful but Dimitri giggles at that, so who truly cares if Felix is good at baking cookies? Felix hates sweets anyhow.

"Now, will you tell me why you haven't spoken of it?" Felix asks, readily. He could never be angry with Dimitri, no matter what he hides from him. Felix is prepared for any explanation, he just wants the prince to trust him the same way Felix does. "Truthfully Felix, it didn't matter. It didn't strike me as significant. Well, until now... because you prepared these, and I would've loved to enjoy them." He chews on his lip and Felix’s heart throbs with pain. 

_Does the Goddess hate them so much?_

“You’d be nauseous if you had tasted them,” Felix says as he takes a bite, resembling a sickened face. Dimitri smiles at him, and mumbles, “you don’t like sweets Fe,” 

“Come on, forget about these. Let’s go to our hill,” he says and stands up, offering Dimitri his hand, and Dimitri takes it hastily. 

Felix doesn’t perceive Dimitri lingering nights after with the four of them as worrying as Sylvain does. _‘He seems lonely,’_ Sylvain observes, and perfect strict Dimitri refuses to sleep early now, dozing off when they have dinner. Maybe the little to nothing Dimitri speaks, troubles Felix. 

Everyone seems to forget that Felix is mourning too. In the early morning, they take direct orders from Rodrigue, ‘Don’t leave Dimitri alone today.’ As if Felix would ever leave Dimitri’s side.

They lay down on the fresh grass just before the sun. Spring doesn’t hold still when people fall dead, there is no time for grief. Felix understands that, but others don’t seem to. 

They watch Ingrid walk some kids into an old temple as the wind bothers them, it’s unfamiliarly peaceful, unfortunately, the usual for them now. 

Quiet as it is, he side-eyes Dimitri. Dimitri had his hair cut short after the tragedy, it’s silly but it breaks Felix’s heart a little. They were matching, like a true Blaiddyd and Fraldarius.

It's unexpected but it happens that Dimitri is the one who breaks the deathly silence, "Everyone is desisting from, well, it." He starts. Felix and Sylvain both share a look as Dimitri carries on, "Even you Felix," he mumbles, frustration clear in his voice.

Felix stills. He does want to touch on the deads’ memory, Felix’s sorrow lies with the goddess, she stole his brother. Dimitri’s lay someplace darker. They’re unable to strengthen each other, Dimitri's whole kingdom's burden is on him at this age, besides watching his father, mother and Glenn slaughtered right before his eyes. Felix is helpless when it comes to comforting words, they’re hard rather heavy on his tongue. Not the way Sylvain has them mastered, seeping from his mouth just right. Felix shuns the awful notion, that Sylvain lacked those the most before the tragedy. 

When they had Glenn’s burial, along with the Blaiddyd family. Sylvain was the only one there to offer words that didn’t outrage deep in Felix’s soul, not his father nor Dimitri who was occupied with his own misery. 

Felix couldn’t soothe Dimitri either, hardly with simple hugs that felt different for the two boys. 

"Given that, I can’t take my mind off of the memory… Well, they should've forgotten me in Duscur, I should've stayed with them, Glenn shouldn't have wasted his life on me a-and-" he stops. Felix is quick to glance at Dimitri's eyes, they are brightened with tears and pain, Felix doesn't like it one bit. He and Sylvain sit properly at his words, and thank Sothis, Sylvain wraps his arms around Dimitri, bringing him up and close, Dimitri sobs to his chest.

Regardless of the obvious grief on Dimitri’s face, Felix doesn’t hold a memory of Dimitri weeping at the burial they had for Duscur and neither of himself. Felix, the idiot cry baby he is, doesn’t shed a tear when Glenn dies. The words of his father and his people remain horrifyingly straying in his head. He fears for brief seconds if Dimitri is approving of them too. 

"I didn't want to escape death, I feel wrong for being here, between you two. I- I wished Gilbert to strike the final blow at me there and then." Dimitri does his best not to falter through ugly sobs. 

The dreadful portrayal Gustave had painted for them, _for Rodrigue_ while Felix eavesdropped on them, as he described Dimitri barely a survivor, dragging a red soaked sword next to him, through the mud. Gustave didn’t know to call him lucky or not. It has been heavily pouring that day, accompanied by an unusual dizzying fog that Dimitri had to activate his crest until he’s on his last leg, his gaze hollow as he cuts through.

 _How can Sothis hurt Dimitri?_ Felix thinks. 

He is saved from the wounds, the bites of animals and the burns beneath his lids, thankfully, the healer succeeded to cease them to nothing, but the vivid blue leaves Dimitri fearfully after that, forgetting mere melancholy for him.

 _‘He emptied his stomach for hours after we had found him.’ ‘clutched to someone yelling ‘father’.’ ‘It’s ill-mannered of a prince to behave in such a fashion._ ’ merely tales that went on and about around the kingdom, it drives Felix to rage, he cusses around and shuts the running mouths with imaginative stories. 

‘Put me out of my misery,’ Dimitri joked yesterday when they dueled. 

Felix fails Dimitri when he needs a friend, and Dimitri was never big at seeking a shoulder to cry on, none of them was. If Dimitri was in better hands, safer hands, _Glenn’s hands._ His Dimitri would be back, and well, not wishing death. 

He stares at him and Sylvain hugging, Sylvain smiles at him, opening an inviting arm and Felix hurries to bury himself within it. 

The three hug tightly for some embarrassing moments. Sylvain shushing Dimitri with words Felix has only heard Sylvain use on ladies, It lasts until Sylvain breaks their hold to carry Dimitri’s face between his palms, "Dima, you deserve living,” Sylvain’s fingers rub at the wet tears while he repeats the words for Dimitri to be convinced, Felix almost wants to hug him again _,_ The Sylvain charm goes on, as the older tucks a blonde strand behind the prince’s ear and whispers sweet nothings.

Sylvain is delightful with words, a habit he gained from flirting with numerous women. His magic works on Dimitri, it intends to when Sylvain tells him how good he is. 

Dimitri is good, Dimitri’s smile is sound when it curls around his lips, bright with tears. Dimitri is too good for Fearghus, too kind to be the king, too fragile to be alone. Felix will have to grow stronger and surpass Glenn, he won’t let the cruel world have him alone. While his eyes travel Dimitri’s face, he thinks, what a waste to be the king. 

Dimitri, lastly, wipes his remaining tears and nods at Sylvain who shows contentment with his work. Dimitri’s cheeks are flushed fair red, Felix itches to kiss them. Dimitri’s glance falls towards him and Felix turns his gaze away, embarrassed to be caught gawking. 

For a bit, the novel intimate quietness sets them at ease, the neigh of the horses' spoiling it and the sunlight soften on them with joy, the warmth playing on their fair skin. 

"Do you want to spar Fe?" comes a strange question from Dimitri. 

He looks at Sylvain for affirmation, Sylvain simply shrugs.

"Sure."

“Your highness, shouldn’t we do something more relaxing?” Sylvain suggests as he lazily lays back on the green. Only Dimitri grasps at Sylvain’s hand to pick him up from the ground with no attempt, following a smile. “I don’t have tough opponents in Fhirdiad to train with.” 

How Felix hoped he’d say something that day to Dimitri, instead of clashing swords with him. Dimitri thinks Felix is angry with him when he stays silent, Felix should’ve made Dimitri promise, _let me stay with you, we’ll be fine. As long as I am by your side._ The same he did to Sylvain. 

_“Don’t speak like that, idiot! You’re not dying, there is no curse, we’re not cursed. There is no Goddess to help us, there are no ideals, there is no curse.” Felix chides. Sylvain’s eyes fixate on him widely, no scolding behind them nor letdown. “Promise me, Sylvain, you won’t die on me, tell me now you’ll stick with or I swear I’ll kill you.” Sylvain laughs peacefully and they seal their promise together._

The truth is, neither does Felix have stronger foes in his house, not more than Dimitri is with his brute strength. He missed that similarly, no opponent is as dangerous as Dimitri. No one is so delightful to knock down. 

Every duel with Dimitri is proof of Dimitri’s survival. The animalistic grin he flashes for Felix, an unfamiliar blood ravenous gaze he pins Felix with when he wields the sword at Felix’s unarmed hand. Felix knows hungry looks for perfect matches, the ones Dimitri streams are empty, not withholding of his typical fieriness; instead, he swaggers around with predators instincts, threatening moves he could wave Felix’s arm easily with, so unfamiliar. 

Felix does not speak of it to anyone, not Dimitri, nor his father, he simply buries it deep beside each shift of Dimitri’s habits. 

Dimitri stays invariably silent for the rest of their visit. 

Except for nights, when nightmares make him scream and cry out in pain. 

The first time Felix hears it is when he's turning back to his quarters, he had stayed up late with Sylvain. The guards don't stop him when he barges into the prince's room, but the frightened look on his best friend does.

He carefully steps in, Dimitri sits on the royal bed, and they don't speak a word; the way Dimitri stares into his eyes is enough for him to understand. It only makes him rush and grab onto him so tight between his arms, like nothing matters anymore, as Dimitri's head lolls wailing on his shoulder. 

He struggles to stay awake and keep Dimitri safe with his arms. At last, his eyes betray him when they shut, but not before making sure the other has fallen asleep too. 

When he rises before the prince, Felix is relieved that Dimitri slept some. Dimitri hugs at his body, he is more grown than Felix, and so Felix finds himself buried in his chest.

Dimitri tells him that this has been occurring since the Tragedy. Well, he couldn't sleep at all at the beginning and now whenever his eyes taste rest, nightmares follow him and agony doesn't leave him space. Dimitri demands that Felix shouldn't worry, this is only natural for him now. Which makes Felix fret, even more. Felix sometimes dreams of Glenn, but it's only kind memories that have lingered in his mind and rarely bad ones. 

One day, he has enough of it with Dimitri. “You come to me when you can’t fall asleep, alright? I’ll scare them away.” he snaps. “If you don’t, I’ll- I’ll go back to Fraldarius.” It’s an empty threat, they both know Felix would never be the first to leave. 

Felix doesn’t know how to protect Dimitri anymore, he is good with weapons and poor with anything else. 

Dimitri promises Felix, he’ll come at night when he needs a tender body next to him, when he needs Felix. Which is almost every day. Felix only complains when Dimitri apologizes for ‘disturbing’ Felix, he knows Dimitri is concealing some more terrors; like when he begs for Felix’s forgiveness asleep. He won’t speak of it to Felix, and Felix is angry when he pushes Dimitri to tell him more because Felix can help. 

Truth is, he can not, doesn’t know how to. 

The truth bothers him when he heads to his sleep, lying awake and hampering on it.

Three knocks on the door, Dimitri has appeared again in the night, this time Felix waits for him patiently.

“Come in,”

They’re 14 now, and it’s a bit uncomfortable to sleep in Felix’s old bed, but he does not say a word about it. Felix is scared of ruining this, what they have left.

When Dimitri lays, he has his eyes pierced to the ceiling, empty blue. Felix hasn't gotten inured to the coldness of them yet, they’re out of place. Felix can’t save Dimitri, he realizes but he can offer him sleep and a holding hand. “Let’s sleep, Dimitri,” he whispers. 

They’re going back to their territory tomorrow before the harsh winter begins and it might be why Dimitri turns to him immediately with glossy eyes, his eyes worn out, so very filled with agony. He despises how it holds tight on his heart.

He won’t see him for a long time, for another long time and it makes Felix miserable. The longing feelings don’t go when Dimitri isn’t here, they just make his heart ache more, except he isn’t the only one who grieves this time, and he will celebrate this little victory later. 

He doesn’t know how Dimitri is to fall asleep after he is gone. He'll replace him with another warm body to keep his ghosts away, he might consider Dedue, and it’s a silent wish that he does not.

No one deems the prince can’t sleep at night followed by his father’s ghost. No one thinks of it when Felix promises Dimitri to protect him from anything, he won’t let ghosts get him, or anyone for that matter. He’ll always be by his side when he is hurt, he promises, for Dimitri to feel safe and for Felix to feel at ease. No one thinks, Felix will kiss away the tears on Dimitri’s cheeks until he calms down. It used to be Dimitri wiping away the easily fallen drops from Felix’s eyes. It’s only fair Felix does it just as delicately.

Nothing would belate in their return to the Fraldarius house, even his father doesn’t want to leave Dimitri alone, seeing how much his morals were raised from when they first arrived at Fhirdiad. 

Felix has tried breaking one of the wagons since it’ll take some time to build another, only he gets caught and lectured, _characteristics of his luck._ His father doesn’t chide, he never casts his anger on Felix, especially not after Glenn’s death. Just asking Felix to understand that their return is necessary.

Winter creeps by slow and very leisurely, lesson after lesson and Felix is stronger, resembling promising skills with his fights. He can’t wait to show them off for Dimitri. Their next meeting swirls in his head, heat boiling down his abdomen at the thought. The letters they exchange aren’t sufficient, Dimitri writes politely, formal even. Felix despises it, he hates that the letters don’t carry Dimitri’s fragrance on them. Dimitri is distant and Felix's heart feels strange without him. 

When Dimitri writes sincerely, Felix can’t grin foolishly at the attempts of jokes Dimitri makes, not when the following paragraph is about his nightmares. 

Dimitri apologizes, repeatedly. Felix doesn’t know what for anymore, for Glenn’s death, or Dimitri’s constant horror of dreams, however, Felix lets him.

The snow melts gradually, the way Felix’s heart does when he is informed they’re not visiting Fhirdiad this year. In this letter he apologizes to Dimitri, he knows Dimitri can’t be the one paying them a visit like the old times when the king would surprise them with a visit. 

The best kind of surprises. 

The sunny weather appears to stay oddly long without Dimitri, flowers blossom, dry, and fall, yet he and Dimitri still haven’t reunited. Their letters feel like a one-sided effort, and Felix can’t help but worry deeply, the panic of Dimitri forgetting about him traps him, or maybe Dedue had filled his place. 

When his old man tells him he’ll be assisting on an important battle, his heart drums in his chest, smiles briefly and his father raises a brow at that, “I imagined you would get cross with me because you are a squire.” he says, and Felix erases his smile evidently. 

And so, he counts the days until _their_ meeting. 

Felix didn't realize that to be the knight's squire is difficult at times. He detests accustoming to other’s fashion in battle, following around like a puppy while Dimitri leads them. He was fired up nonetheless, it's his first battle and he's just about to meet Dimitri after too many months.

Dimitri had promised him back then that he'd take care of himself. He wrote to him about the food, the harsh training keeping him busy. Felix conceived that Dimitri was far ahead of him, he can't catch up to him, he runs and paces but Dimitri is ahead, already heading a battle.

He is aware it's to serve the royal blood pride. No matter how selfless Dimitri was, he is a Blaiddyd descendant, it runs in him to honor his family. The people desire to watch the prince triumph, to narrate stories of his victories, chivalries. Felix isn’t certain if he’ll loathe them the same way he does to stories about Glenn, tales his father allowed the people to relish on Glenn’s corpse. The fifteen year old prince is desired by authors and knights that pledge their lives for him. Felix thinks to himself, sure this will ease Dimitri up, this will help him calm down, maybe it will bring Dimitri back, he holds on to that thought hopelessly. 

Felix reasons and, so selfishly, Felix is more deserving of Dimitri. He leaves his head to wonder, does Dima feel his absence? Perhaps Dima is the one who requested from Rodrigue to bring Felix, perhaps Felix is his savior.

He burns with shame at the notions his mind presents. 

Everything breaks Felix's heart, including the time Sylvain mentions Dimitri giving a dagger to a girl he likes. Felix blinks once, twice, and Sylvain giggles, "I know it's hilarious Fe, imagine."

Only Felix would've loved a dagger.

He mocks him back then with Sylvain, it breaks Felix's heart more when it’s followed with the prince's lashes clumped with tears, bashful cheeks questioning if she will despise him.

Sylvain hugs him in response and taunts some more merely to tease him until Dimitri punches him with no effort and tamed strength, leaving Sylvain on the ground and yelling 'how unfair is this?' Felix agrees blindsided, this is unfair.

It’s only embarrassing enough to admit his sincere feelings to Dimitri.

He is ever ready to die for Dimitri, not for duty but something more. He doesn’t aspire for tales to be told about it, instead, he wants Dimitri to rescue him, order Felix to stay alongside him ruling. 

Suddenly, voices begin to rise, visible tents crowding the sight, they finally arrive at the battle camp. The weather is heavy on them with heat and Felix’s horse appears upset with fatigue. The kingdom’s army has already settled down and Felix’s eyes search for a certain yellow head. 

He wonders if Dimitri would be excited for his first time commanding a battle. Dimitri is delicate, kind, everything that is hard to be when you're the long-awaited king. Felix only hopes he is handling this just fine.

His heart thumbs with joy as he spots Dimitri, he has grown healthy and into his manly looks, the fat around his cheeks has sharpened on his face. He shoots one pointed look and knights are under his command, fitting his role. Felix blames himself for having any doubt. 

Dimitri shines more and Felix falls more and more.

Dedue's hand gently settles on Dimitri's shoulder, and Dimitri gives him a faint smile, a sign that he’s got this. It stirs at Felix’s guts. Felix was empathetic with Dedue, after all, Dedue pulled Dimitri from his slump, having lived through death the way Dimitri did. He turns a blind eye to the jealousy racing through him, the unspoken wish of having Dedue’s place stays secret among the rumpled notions.

Dedue clings to Dimitri, acts as though he is the prince's right-hand man, always by his side when Felix should be the one there. The one by his side, Felix loathes the urge that rises to whine like the old days when that was all it took to have Dimitri by his side. 

Felix can’t offer the comfort Dedue does, he understands, yet burns at how close they became in the recent year. They were together between flesh and blood. Dimitri lifted his lance against nobles for him.

So Felix makes it his mission to constantly lash out at Dedue. He agrees with Dimitri’s views, the Duscur people didn't have anything to do with it, it’s not the reason he is angry with Dedue anyhow.

He pretends like he hasn't taken notice of Dimitri, and goes around in circles on his horse to dismount somewhere far from Dimitri. He feels a little silly at himself when he jumps to the ground, turns himself away from Dimitri’s sight. The knots in his stomach harden when he hears steps approaching him, his hold freezes at the bridle of his mount, his heart at his throat, alarmed when he feels a hand on his shoulder, tapping him gently, and he tries to refrain from a smile.

When he whirls around, Dimitri is there, towering over him. Eyes soft blue, same as the clear sky on a summer morning. _Different than usual_ , he thinks. Dimitri brings him to his chest abruptly, leaving Felix caught off guard at the gesture, and when he registers slowly as his hands raise to pat the prince's back.“They said the young lord is with us, and that I wouldn’t find you among them,” Dimitri breaths right above his ears, "Felix, it's- it's really good to see you here," He whispers to him and Felix holds his breath tight until Dimitri releases him finally. Felix isn't fond of tender touches or words, but he will take anything from the prince. "How have you been, I suppose Rodrigue came with you?" Dimitri’s gaze travels over him. Felix is unable to form more than a murmur, "He will arrive late at night." 

From such a close distance, Dimitri looks worn, paler, and a little too thin, working to hide it with demanding glares and firm commands. Felix wishes he does not, wants to believe that Dimitri is doing alright, yet he always sees through him, through the pain and everything Dimitri is handling.

Dimitri forces a grin, "Then, it looks like we have enough time to spar together." 

Despite the worrying signs, Felix can't hold back a smile; he misses this.

When Dimitri advances first, his technique is new and drifting towards that of relying on a person’s strength. Dimitri was one for sly swings, but now he suggests unusual impatience and a heated style. It troubles Felix if he goes into the battle like that, he'll lose for tactics and that’s the reason Felix doesn’t strike again, stands still, and holds Dimitri’s gaze, who prevents himself from initiating another attack. 

"What's wrong with you today?" Felix shouts faintly.

"Why did you stop?" Dimitri's voice is rougher, dangerous. 

Felix returns his sword to its sheath and steps closer, "I'm not fighting you if you're going to lose control. I've never seen you like this Dimitri." 

"I'll find someone else to defeat then."

"you're going to kill someone with this anger taking hold of your sword." Felix grits through his teeth. Sylvain is right, Dimitri is unreasonable, scary when he is angry, or hasn’t slept well.

"I'd never hurt you." He says plain and clear and Felix, the fool, has his heart skip a beat.

"Because you can't, but you're going to hurt yourself."

Dimitri's hand tightens around the handle of his sword, his eyes averting to the ground, pinned there, angry, and bright with tears. Felix steps closer and grips the weapon from Dimitri's hands, the gloves are hot on his fingers but they let go. "What's wrong now, stop acting stupid Dimitri, you have an army to lead so what is this really about?"

"I can’t let them take the crown," Dimitri mumbles, “Everyone wants for tomorrow’s battle to happen, even… even them, in my nightmares. My father, Glenn, they urge me to fight…” he says, nearly ashamed of himself, Felix is uncertain of what to say, what could possibly make Dimitri feel better, he isn't like everyone here. Dimitri won't be able to live with causing needless deaths.

"You don't owe anyone anything Dima," at the name Dimitri's tears start running on his flushed cheeks, dropping on the training ground and now on Felix's fingers. Felix dislikes when others cry, it's an ugly weak look on people, still, he thinks Dimitri still looks lovely, beautiful even, strong, and everything a prince could be. 

He shakes his head, wiping tears with his knuckles casually. "There is no point in dwelling on the past, you're here and..." Dimitri peers at him again, eyes piercing blue. "Ugh... why do you make me talk." Felix is soon tripping on his own words, cheeks pink though it paints a smile on Dimitri's face regardless. 

"You know how much I hate knight ideals, I know you do too... then why, why do you think you owe your life to the dead?" he affirms and the blue eyes are nearly hopeful on his dark ones.

They go to join his father next. Dimitri has grown up, so much that Felix doesn’t recognize him stealing looks at Felix and stating how much Felix changed. Felix smiles heartily, Dimitri turned out the best. “You look handsome, your hair… is…” Dimitri plays with the end of Felix’s strands, the heat waves on Felix at the words, mouth parting so slightly, Dimitri’s eyes fixed on the hair. “Longer.” He concludes. 

Felix is a coward, the biggest in Fodlan for not kissing Dimitri at that. 

Instead, all that he mutters is, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

When they meet his father, It's a funny encounter because Rodrigue doesn't acknowledge him until he is done messing all of Dimitri's hair. Felix doesn’t harp on Rodrigue being a bad father anymore, he is at least the only grown-up who cares about Dimitri. 

Dimitri really has no one, Felix recognizes this after watching him break, asking questions that should be directed to someone gentler, someone who understands, like Dedue.

The prince appears calmer now, more collected and Felix likes to think is due to him. 

Dimitri keeps eyeing him as his father explains more of tomorrow’s strategy. Felix shouldn’t be attending this meeting, he is a mere vassal tomorrow, but he doesn’t want to leave Dimitri’s side and he despises how much that makes his old man pleased. 

Rodrigue invites Dimitri to tea after they finish, encouraging Felix to accompany them. He would naturally refuse but Dimitri shoots him a hopful look, he wants Felix to be with them. 

He joins the two, his father attempting to draw him to their conversation, but Felix can’t concentrate while Dimitri’s rough hand, evidence of the edge of their youth, searches dangerously on his thigh under the table for his hand, and he holds it, _squeezes it_. 

_What is this damned fool doing?_

When Felix pries his eyes to fix Dimitri a glare, Dimitri doesn’t spare him a look, his focus is wholly on his father, smiling politely, but Felix isn’t stupid to discern the quirk of a smirk on his lips. _What the hell._

At the time Felix finally ends up sitting in his tent at night, the darkness cast on them, the night is peaceful and the only noise disturbing the serene is the crackling fire around the camp and the nearby lake and water. The knights are already in their tents asleep, they have a long day awaiting them tomorrow. 

He prepares to head to sleep, his boots come off first, and before he puts his night clothes on he spots a familiar figure, blonde hair, and clear blue eyes approach him gradually. Felix’s heart flips when the figure takes a place next to him carefully, not needing anyone to wake up. 

"I wasn't able to sleep, I thought I'd walk around the nearby lake.” Dimitri indicates, planting himself at Felix’s side.

Felix shrugs, "it's nothing special." he stares at calm water to avoid the honing eyes on him. 

"It soothes me,” Dimitri takes a breath, hesitant. “It reminds me of our old days, remember? When Ingrid and Sylvain used to throw you and me in the freezing lake." It draws a smile out of Felix and paints his cheeks pink, ashamed at the sweet memories. He remembers them too well. 

"Are you scared?" Felix decides to ask, curiously, Dimitri never seems scared. 

"Not really, you're by my side, aren't you?"

"I'm not fighting, you know that."

Dimitri shuffles next to him, turning to face him and Felix feels waves of heat washing over him. 

"You always ground me, Felix," his voice dripping like honey, words not reluctant like before. Felix finally lands his eyes on him, an unreadable gaze on the prince's face. Zeroed in on something, Felix can't discern it, they're close, too close for him to pay mind to anything else but the intoxicating scent of Dimitri. His eyes are sparkling similar to the stars around them, bluer, blue blue and so pretty when he whispers, "Just like this will for tomorrow." 

On spur of the moment, Dimitri presses his lips against Felix's so gently, with a firm grip on Felix’s warm face, fingers brushing on his cheeks, Felix can’t help but gasp and tilt the tiniest bit under his hand, shaking and letting his eyes full shut as his heart leaps to his chest. 

The kiss didn’t feel like a goodbye but a promise, _if I didn’t live for tomorrow to kiss you harder._ His heart jumps at how right it tastes on his lips, like he was born for this. 

When Dimitri pulls away, his blonde eyelashes flutter open and his throat gulps as he gazes at Felix. Felix has his breath still held, lips parted and he assumes a terrified look on his face. 

Felix’s head spins and spins.

Everything turns quiet around them, a reward for Felix, for believing Dimitri, _the crown prince Dimitri_ , will only ever see him as a companion, a shield, or a future advisor. He is here and his lips felt real, not like another wishful dream of Felix’s, only they match what he always imagined they would be, soft and warm with pressure.

It just occurs to Felix, that maybe the battle isn’t what was wrecking Dimitri’s nerves. He must’ve thought about this a lot, long enough. The mere notion of Dimitri pondering over this plays with Felix’s heart.

Dimitri finally breaks the silence, worrying his lips, hand on Felix’s nape trembling. “I’m s-sorry if I offended you, I don’t know what came upon me, I-” Felix hears the rush of words and he can’t be attentive, they’re under stars and Dimitri feels like one, unreal. 

Dimitri’s eyes search for anything in Felix to tell him he isn’t angry and Felix wants to sway forward and kiss him again and take more and more until they fall tired. He wants that but they have to sleep for Dimitri’s sake. They have all tomorrow, they have 

tomorrow and forever, and Felix isn’t selfish enough to steal Dimitri today. 

"Idiot," Felix breaths out, blinking back tears.

Dimitri has his lip caught between his teeth, fidgeting with his cloth, "What?" 

"For how long I've been waiting for this..."

"Is that so?" Dimitri questions, the dimed blue eyes glow again with joy and relief, he promises between him and the night, he won’t let anything take this Dimitri away from him. If nightmares arise and ghosts visit, this is how he and Dimitri will triumph over them. Felix has as many kisses as it calls for to scare ghosts away, anything for Dimitri to stay at his side, laughter rumbling through his chest, happiness placing itself again on his handsome face. He wants it to last.

They lay on the grass near his tent, gazing at the stars. Another memory of theirs paints itself on the back of Felix’s mind, reading stories on the hill side, Dimitri giggling at Felix's stutter on words. They used to be so happy that it feels like an aged dream.

He has Dimitri between his nape and Felix lets his head rest there, taking in the familiar scent and the soft breaths against his neck. "Felix, I have a confession," Dimitri’s lips brush at his skin, and Felix can't help but shiver and hope Dimitri would think it's the chill of the night. He hums in return, anticipating what the prince has to say. 

"I like your hair quite... a lot." He sounds drowsy but it lets Felix giggle high and fill the darkness, heart hammering quick and loud in his chest. He doesn’t remember the last time he ever laughed. It’s been suffocating, knowing Dimitri was unwell, his ruined relationship with so many like his father and Ingrid, but next to Dimitri everything felt right again, and Felix allows himself to enjoy it with teasing remarks. "Is that so your highness? That’s inappropriate but if it’s an order from the crown prince, I’ll keep it growing for you,” he murmurs between him and Dimitri, a sly tone creeping to his voice. 

Dimitri shifts next to him, whining, "Felix, please don't refer to me as such, it's enough from Sylvain."

"Hmmm? Do you prefer 'your princeliness?' or maybe 'Your grace'?" He teases more because he hasn't seen Dimitri like this in so long, relaxed, and carefree. 

Dimitri laughs into Felix, it's so rare and overwhelming to look at him without gripping that mouth of his and kissing all over his happy face. 

"Felix, I never thanked you for always calling me by my name. Thank you for seeing me as me, your friend." Like the stars, his blue eyes bore into him, not sleepy anymore and very serious.

Felix smiles, heart fond and warm. He knows Dimitri sees it as he smiles in return.

He watches as the prince of Faerghus falls asleep with pale tender fingers running through his hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest against Felix’s only brings peace to him. Tomorrow, he’ll hug him closer to his chest. 

When the sun rises, Felix doesn’t wake up to the familiar scent, blonde locks don’t spur on his forehead like usual. Instead, he is covered with a blue cape that he recognizes instantly as Dimitri’s, and he swallows his let down. 

Felix doesn’t let his mind slip to the kiss in the morning, he has a combat to prepare for. 

Yet, he keeps brushing his fingers upon his lips. Was it one of his dreams? Did the kiss mean for Dimitri the same it did for him? Dimitri isn’t heartless, Felix knows, he knows Dimitri doesn’t give hollow words, and kisses. 

If Dimitri loves him the way he desires it to be, then why hasn't he suggested it while Felix was suffering for any sign from him, was he afraid too? How can the prince be afraid of such a thing when everyone would line their hearts for him? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t have answers yet, but he is happy. 

He hasn’t felt like this since Duscur, he didn’t allow himself to feel joy. Felix doesn’t know how to handle happiness, it comes strange to him, he thinks of sparring against someone or debating with his old man but all he wants is to kiss Dimitri, breathless and heavy, tongues at each other like swords.

He is fine with getting through this unknown bliss by crushing his lips against the prince, it sounds fair for all the past longing years. Once the battle is over, he’ll have his way with the prince.

Felix doesn’t find time to speak with Dimitri, time only allows him to prepare with his knight. Dimitri has plenty to equip for too, he’ll be the head of their army after all. 

When a general had suggested that Dimitri can’t be in the front lines, Dimitri refused sharply. ‘Do you take me for a coward, general?’ he said, his voice almost trembling with anger, he fixed him a restrained look. It was strange of Dimitri but Felix didn’t pick up on it. In that moment Felix only understood they’re not the innocent kids they were before. Knots bind down his abdomen at how Dimitri could get hurt. Felix is no stranger to watching people fall dead, and yet the notion sits unwell within him. He dismisses it at once, this is what he is raised for, after all.

When they gather around to march, Dimitri makes a speech, to lift morals. His father said last night and Dimitri obliges. Except, Dimitri tells them there is no room for nobility today, don’t be merciful. 

Gentle, kind Dimitri, has his words pierce through the knights, and they cheer for it.

Dimitri’s smile is no teeth when he tells them it’s only a matter of time before they claim their victory. 

He leads them in no time, the horses racing to reach the battlefield. Felix’s eyes follow Dimitri’s form, he looks the same way books write kings leading; prideful, handsome when he pulls at the reins of his horse, it forces Felix’s eyes away seeing that his mind strays too long at the gracefulness. Although, he wishes Dimitri would spare him a glance and smile at him. 

When they spot their enemies, everything occurs too abruptly, just how he learned from Glenn. 

He watches as the battle breaks into chaos so quickly, his mind wandering slowly to Glenn. He witnessed this too many times or maybe he didn’t, only seeing red as he fights. 

Fraldarius’ house knights are prideful, he notices haughtily, none of them abandons the plan when their comrades’ necks fall next to them; do the swings of their swords cover the cries of men? Felix watches men shriek out, but doesn’t hear it. 

They outnumbered the enemy and if Dimitri was as clever as Felix knew him to be, he’d offer a treaty and as Felix’s eyes seek him, everything crumbles, together with Felix.

Dimitri is grinning madly, cutting through soldiers and heads, his lips glistening with blood striking against the white teeth and nearly licking at them. Felix doesn't know if his mind is playing tricks on him. Everything is a blur except for Dimitri, icy eyes, brighter than the sun upon them like he was born for this, matched with a smirk when he pushes through a knight’s throat, his blood-colored lance already drenched with someone else's insides. 

Felix’s stomach twists under his armor, twists, and twists until the urge to empty his stomach swells within him.

The warm rescuing eyes in his everyday dreams have gloried on the corpses he creates.

Dimitri is different, Dimitri isn’t another beast, _they’re_ the enemies, _rebels_. Not Dimitri, not who Felix swore his life to and sealed his lips against. 

Even his soldiers stand behind, terrified of being mistakenly hit. Felix doesn't blame them, the boy is slaughtering right and left, sweat doesn’t even trickle from him, doesn’t bother him, sitting on his thick eyebrows as he puts enemies to death.

Felix can't breathe, throat tight, hands tied, how long is this going to last? His stomach feels sick, what sort of twisted nightmare has the Goddess cast on him, he would rather watch the prince drop dead and not watch this.

 _This isn't him, this isn't him, this isn't him,_ his mind keeps repeating a prayer. _Goddess, please don't let it be him._ He doesn't catch the knight he is assigned to when he is asked for water, Felix should do his part in this massacre. 

It reminds him, all of them are focusing on staying alive. 

He wonders if he raised his sword against that beast, would he too fall on the ground? Gathered with the rest of the corpses? 

He would within seconds, his friend won’t even recognize him before his lance is drilled in Felix’s body. 

He hears knights behind him speak, and he wishes his father was here to witness it. 

_"He is the grandson of Loog after all." "The Crest of Blaiddyd was under safer hands with Lambert, this one looks insane. How will he rule us?" "I don't mind him, at least no one will think to go against him."_ They say, some of them proud, and others threatened. 

If he rips himself from his pride, he’d beg on his knees for Dimitri to stop. He’ll do it to bring back what’s left for him, from the tragedy and the world. Dimitri’s return is what kept him at peace, _his friend._ He’d hold him, tell him they won, tell him the books they read are wrong with their ideals, tell him there aren’t enough memories to atone to you, Dimitri.

He isn’t ridiculing foes anymore, no smile on his face. He looks menacing like an animal looking for his next prey his lance wants to tackle. Flash of an arrogant look falls on his face while he walks on the cemetery of the bodies he annihilated as if he is proud of himself. He drops his lance swiftly between them approaching one last warrior, on the ground, defenseless and he waits for Dimitri to let him go, to speak to him in peace. One man to another, Dimitri has already dropped his weapon, will he save one last memory, for Felix. 

Dedue follows him slowly, alarmed that something would occur to his precious little king. Felix laughs to himself madly, not concerned about the heavy gazes on him. 

Everyone watches as Dimitri kneels on one knee, eyes cold, like the first snow of the year on Fraldarius, except, the sun is high on their faces, polishing their weapons. 

They watch as he mouths something to the prince, he assumes it’s pleadings, the crown prince doesn’t spare a blink when he grips the slumped man’s jaw raising his face to meet Dimitri, Felix feels the hold around his heart, pounding. 

Seconds pass and Dimitri tardily stands up as the man’s head falls on the ground, and they see it now: crushed skull, white eyes, and out of life.

Dimitri has spared no one.

He returns to his mount, head up, and proud. There are only some troops of the enemy left, most of them abandoned the battle when they foresaw the prince’s victory. Felix hears the beast’s threatening voice echo, “Kill them all, I don’t care what nobles they claim to be,” rough as if he is a decade older. 

The nightmare is only over when Felix’s knight guides him to turn back. They reek with blood, guts, and metal, leaving no room for that heavy scent of their sweat, even when Felix has only defended himself against a weak attempt to kill him. He still smells of that of a knight, _sickening_. 

His knight is thrilled with the weapons left beside the bodies on the field and tells him the prices they could sell them for. The vomit edges on Felix’s throat when they approach them. Felix dares to glance fully at the scene in front of him, land painted with red, crimson like the roses Glenn would tuck behind his ear when they were young. 

The knight tells him that soon animals will fly here. “It smells like death, of course they would,” Felix comments, appalled. Felix refuses to taint his hands when the knight offers him a weapon, says he is noble, he has as many spears as he fancies. The truth is, he is too much of a coward to do so, brittle even. 

He receives a look Glenn used to fire at brats and spoiled nobles, and Felix takes it fine. As long he gets back in time before his stomach bursts itself. 

When they decide to switch back, Felix wonders what kind of look Glenn had thrown when he witnessed knights falling, or when he begged for his dear life. 

They are promised with a feast tomorrow, but Felix plans on gathering his things and returning to his territory in the morning. 

He won’t celebrate with his father, with that beast or anyone. Will he talk with Dimitri about it? He doesn’t know. The way he throws up all of his insides and ignores calls for the large meal assures him he isn’t strong enough to face the brute. 

He is still shaken, he had _kissed_ him, just yesterday, he had him by his side. 

The thought only forces Felix to wash again, it feels like filth on him. 

He doesn’t know what Dimitri would say to excuse himself, but he wishes that he does. Felix decides late at night to take his answers, walking to the big settled tent terrified of the answers. 

Dedue is sitting there at the front of it as if to guard it. He most definitely is. 

Felix opens the tent, ignoring the scolding tone Dedue speaks with. "You should ask me first, to make sure his highness is fi-"

"No, I should not," and Dedue studies him. It's Felix, not a stranger or a mere friend. It's Felix, and that inside is Dimitri, not a boar. Right? Right. 

Felix enters despite Dedue's glare. He doesn't want to condemn Dedue, he is here to yell at someone else. That someone is the stranger standing in the middle of Dimitri's tent, with sharp claws and dirty blonde hair, it's the boar from the battle. 

"Your highness, I attempted to tell him you're exhausted." Deduce says, impassive as usual, still, he succeeds in sounding apologetic. _Exhausted_ , Felix wants to mock,

 _From slaughtering troops, it must be,_ Felix wishes to say.

"Felix!" Dimitri speaks his name with such delight that grips around his heart.

Dimitri is at his side in no time. "We've achieved victory." His azure eyes lit up the tent. "I'm sorry, I don't have any desserts or tea to invite you on, but tomorrow, there will be a feast for us," he beams, disgustingly so. The smile Felix would've called triumphed, he can barely glance at.

"What was that Dimitri?" Felix asks calmly, knowing he might tear up as he forces the name out of his tongue.

"What are you coming at, Felix?” The calm answer and the confused expression that Dimitri wears frighten Felix. 

"That was not you out there, no, that was not Dimitri there. Yo- Dimitri does not terrify me. Tell me you didn't lead today." Felix pleads almost. 

"Felix, what has gotten into you?" Dimitri says, more puzzled than before, brows meeting in confusion. 

Felix feels the hope gliding from the slit of his grip.

“Weren’t you the one shredding limbs and slaughtering troops with a thrilled smile this morning? How many of our men carry the brute crest of Blaiddyd? Tell me, your beastliness, tell me you weren’t leading today,” he gnashes teeth at the other when he speaks. 

The Prince bristles, eyes fixated on him intensely. 

"You approve of what he became in the battle?" He briefly gazes at Dedue when he throws the words at him. He stands at the mouth of the tent still, and unfazed, "Heh, of course, you do, you want every man of Faerghus dead, what a pair you two make!” 

"Felix!" Dimitri calls upon a voice dark and authoritative, befitting a crown prince, sending shivers down Felix’s back. Never in Felix’s life would he imagine that fearful tone used on his name. He wants to tell him that it’s him, Felix, but he isn’t sure who the person standing next to him is anymore. 

“Is this how you avenge Glenn?” Felix says, carefully. Maybe the mention of him will trigger the beast to feel. 

"We've won!" Dimitri shouts at him.

"At what cost, losing you to a monster?” His hands aim at Dimitri when he bites back.

“I’m right here,” Dimitri says desperately. “I can’t- can’t seem to understand you.” and Felix lets out a snicker as it appears to dawn on him slowly. Dimitri, is dead, has been dead for two years, Felix was just seeking a miracle to save him. 

“Felix-” the name sounds more like Dimitri’s voice again and then the beast tries to reach out to Felix’s arm.

Felix pushes his hand away weakly, “Do not,” he murmurs, tired and hopeless. “Maybe, my Dimitri, my friend,” he says it, heart painfully aching in his chest, “Never came back that day. The lone survivor huh,” Felix tsks. 

He doesn’t have to look back when he pushes Dedue from the entrance of the tent, detests that he knows by heart how the prince must stand now, like a kicked puppy, helpless, marble eyes glassy and confused.

He knows he won’t run after him because Felix has been handling everyone this way except for the blonde, he knows better than to talk to him.

What he despises most is Dimitri’s familiarity. Dimitri can read him like an open book when Felix pretends to be tough where his pain is not a strange look to Dimitri.

When servants ask Felix of the battle, or why he retreated to his territory so soon, he simply ignores them. They all take him as rude these days so he doesn’t pay any mind to his temper anymore.

Days go by and his father follows him back home. He doesn’t speak of Dimitri or scorn him, his father tolerates him and Felix appreciates it somehow, not very showing. 

Days go by and Felix doesn’t rest from his training, he tires himself to sleep. The letters he receives from Dimitri collects dust on his desk. He is a coward, he is not so enduring like his father. He will rip the letter apart as soon as he opens it. 

He doesn’t care either, he tells himself. He doesn’t care about those words of a beast. 

Days go by and Felix isn’t mourning over the beast anymore, so he chooses to open his letter. It’s easy to, now that words don’t weigh the same they did before on Felix. It’s easy because he believes it’s filled with apologies, only he finds Dimitri doesn’t know what he says he’s apologizing for and Felix refuses to write back. 

He doesn’t hear from him after the last letter the beast sent, weeks after the conflict’s letter. Felix doesn’t open it. Leaves it crumbled and thrown in the garbage. 

Months go by and the house of Gautier sends their heir to spend the summer within their territory. Felix hasn’t seen Sylvain since their last visit to Fhirdiad. When his father tells him the news, there is silence from Felix. His father expects some sort of excitement, at what? Sylvain will spend his time courting ladies and Felix will spend his falling in trouble because of him. He’ll force Sylvain to practice with him, and it’s a useless effort. 

“Don’t you get along with Sylvain, Felix?” His father asks. 

“No.” 

“You don’t get along with many people, son.” 

“Is that a problem?” he bites back. Every time Felix expects an earful, his dad doesn’t fall into his trap into arguing, instead, he nods as if he understands, “It’ll just do you good to have some friends, Felix, you must have dependable allies, and Sylvain also needs trustworthy friends. You’ll find how good it does for you to have friends in other houses.” His father says all kindly as if he worries about Felix at all. 

“Save that for Sylvain or even the beast of a prince, since you care so much about them.” He doesn’t hear the usual scolding from behind when he walks out of the room. 

Regardless, he stays up until night for Sylvain’s carriage to arrive. He doesn’t miss Sylvain, what he misses is someone who won’t speak of royals and foolish ideals and as thoughtless as Sylvain is, he is the most bearable with politics. He’ll spend his time prattling on about women and wooing them and Felix will just have to avoid him most of the time. Sylvain doesn’t take it to heart, no one really does anymore. 

When Sylvain’s wagon arrives, his father is first to greet him, despite being occupied with the country’s matters. He hears about the beast’s uncle, Rufus is always at disputes with nobles and his nephew. Rodrigue has to intervene almost always as if their region’s affairs aren’t enough. 

Sylvain flashes grins and winks at everyone, even when he speaks to his father, Sylvain is so flattering, so smart with his tongue, it comes easily of course, he has been exercising on it forever. He hears Sylvain asking about Felix’s whereabouts and Felix decides it’s a good time to welcome the older. 

“Felix!” Sylvain calls when he spots him.

Time quickly passes after Sylvain’s arrival. Felix doesn’t admit to enjoying the other’s company. He watches Sylvain chasing ladies and skipping practice, something familiar that stupidly enough, eases his soul; someone hasn’t changed so far. 

They train at times when Sylvain feels guilty after Felix’s scolding or when he receives a letter from his father. Sylvain stiffens when it’s handed to him, smiles, and folds it into his pocket. Felix doesn’t question him, and Sylvain doesn’t speak of his miseries. 

They speak of Ingrid when they go to stables. Sylvain tells him she wants to be a pegasus knight and Felix pretends to not care. Glenn had brought Ingrid here when they were kids. Glenn liked horses, he’d spend most of his time at the stables, his form was so elegant on them, and like royalty, she’d be like him too. 

Sylvain isn’t too subtle when he brings up Fhirdiad with incidental remarks to Dimitri, until one day on the training ground, the older asks him what truly happened. It’s inevitable since young Felix wouldn’t shut up about the prince before, so eager to tell everyone about him, it’s only natural to raise suspicions when he quits his old habits. 

When Felix explains to him the battle’s incident, as was expected, Sylvain excuses Dimitri. It drives Felix angry. 

"You didn't see him, you didn't see the beast." Felix grits because if he wasn’t there, he wouldn’t believe that the sweet perfect little prince is capable of a massacre. 

"Felix, I believe you," Sylvain says plainly as he polishes his spear. 

"You-you do?" 

"Yes, but how haven't you seen it coming? He was speaking insanely." Felix flares at the words, _what does he mean_? 

"Even if I did, What, am I not supposed to get angry?" 

"I don't know Felix, we all... we all do bad stuff. Especially since we know him, we know Dimitri isn't evil." Sylvain says as if he knows something more than Felix. 

Dimitri deceived Felix into believing he could never savor the killing, he isn't similar to the others. He tricked everyone into assuming he got better, masked the hollow eyes with polite princely smiles, Sylvain must know this somewhat. 

“Look, Felix, not all of us want to vent out our anger on others the way you do? He believes he has everything under control, cut him some slack.” Sylvain says so simply as though Glenn didn’t waste his life on the boar prince. 

“You’re just excusing your shameful actions with his. I’m sick of both of you.” Felix dumps his weapon and leaves hurriedly, anger fueling him. He catches a loud, “Hey, Felix!” and he can’t wait until Sylvain retires to his land. 


	3. Chapter 3

Felix isn't too keen on attending the Officers Academy, though he hears of their good professors and every noble is ought to go there. He recalls Glenn's stories regarding it, the letters he'd write them the year he went. Glenn attended earlier than most of the students, and the golden boy of the academy he was, even when he'd stir up trouble the most. 

Although Felix is compelled to see his old friends daily, he doesn't resent the notion of his skills with swordsmanship sharpening. He has been excelling in them and hence he will go to challenge them. 

The ride to Garreg Mach Monastery is the most peaceful Felix ever tasted. His father had asked him to exchange letters, the same thing he demanded of Glenn back in the day. 

He is told of Sylvain’s and Ingrid’s arrival with messages sent from the Margrave Gautier to his father, among the implication of the beast’s arrival, and Felix rolls his eyes at his father. 

The day he arrives at the Monastery is the same day he is introduced to the kindest people, and Felix feels the rudest amidst them. They dislike him, he thinks. _It does not matter,_ he maintains.

However, they don’t show signs of it, and Felix finds that he doesn’t resent them, as they are easier to chat with than anyone he has ties with. 

He can only have so much peace until he meets the rest of the blue lions, the ones he knows already. 

Annette’s eyes stare at his soul when his gaze drifts to the man behind her, _the beast._ He smiles at Felix, not nearly as blinding as that of Annette, and _he waves._ ‘Felix,’ he calls. Felix stills in his place, at the friendly face, _Dimitri_ , he holds the name. 

Meanwhile Annette waves at him, “Your highness!” she says, earnestly. He approaches them, his gaze doesn’t flatter from Felix, not even to Annette who welcomes him. Felix doesn’t think he has changed much in the last years, he has only got ruder. 

“Annette, I see you have met Felix.” Felix brows knit at the mention of his name as his mouth quirks in dismay. He doesn’t take Dimitri’s form yet, not until he feels the heat of the blonde’s gaze off him and finally on Annette.

“Yes! He has been helpful,” she beams and curls an arm around Felix’s wilted one. 

Felix has to remind himself, this isn’t Dimitri, not _his_ Dimitri at least. He has to remind himself to not admire the grown-up in front of his eyes, the body built into the blue uniform, broad and _taller_. The perfected smile, that sharp nose of Blaiddyd and his favorite shade of blue set eyes are back to their usual gleam, the one that disappeared in their last encounter. 

_Their last encounter,_ Felix remembers. 

“So, you have deceived everyone here already, boar,” Felix grits, Annette’s wide eyes are on him once he finishes. The boar’s face twists in sorrow, yet he has mastered his facade to turn his lips to that princely smile of his instantly.

“It’s been a long time Felix, I thought you’d want to test your abilities with me, on the training ground.” the boar says, still his uptight smile graces his face and Felix wants to smack it right off him. Did he always have such a fake smile, or did Felix become aware of it now? It doesn’t matter he glares the same to him, a cue to leave.

A foolish part of him wanted to see the boar’s acquired skills, only a small part of him. 

“No thanks, now leave us alone.” keen to please as he is, the boar turns the other way where Dedue, his favorite swine, waits for him. 

“Felix! You were so rude to his highness,” Annette whines and Felix wishes he could tell her his language was tamed just now. 

Felix finds Sylvain and Ingrid at his room in the evening, inviting him to dine with them, or more like _forcing_ him. 

Ingrid asks him what he will be focusing on as his goals in the academy, and Sylvain, ever intolerable, suggests reason since Felix has ‘the hots’ for Annette and earns himself a kick from both Ingrid and Felix’s side. 

Nothing has changed with these two, they’re the same as before, the only piece missing is their forth old friend, quietly laughing at Sylvain’s foolish jokes or leaning his head at Felix’s side when he is worn out. 

Felix finds himself spending most of his time with sweet Annette and unbearably kind Ashe. They assist him with gardening and cooking, which Felix discovers is one of his good traits, Ashe tells him. 

He sees Dedue across the kitchen sometimes, calm and serious when he guides others through their cooking. Felix then realizes he never saw Dedue separated from the boar’s side, it’s refreshing. They don’t fight, and while Felix spits a thing or two to ridicule him, Dedue is merely peaceful. 

Felix hears of the bandits attacking the boar prince when he is training in the evening, the grip on his sword sweating and stiffening around the handle as a student delivers the good news to the others that ‘his highness’ was saved, along with the other two leaders. _Pathetic_ , Felix thinks. 

He doesn't care, yet his heart doesn't soothe until his eyes catch a glimpse of the golden strands and the blue attire. The boar is marching with the two house leaders and two other foreigners. Felix frowns and retreats to his room, they seem rather busy. 

When the night settles down, he listens to the stamp of the familiar footsteps. The boar has returned to his room. Felix hops from his mattress, and leaves his room. 

The boar thankfully forgets his door is ajar, a thin cleft that Felix can see into. The boar is freeing his legs from the knightly boots, and Felix opens the door wider unannounced. Dimitri lifts his head to the rattling as bewilderment polishes his princely face. "Felix! You frightened me, are you perhaps concerned with the recent news?" Dimitri says fervently. 

"Certainly not," Felix tsks, and leans against the door, arms folded to his chest.

The boar stares at him, "Then, what brings you here?" 

"I heard you needed help from a mercenary, how pitiful, you couldn't handle them? You're bloodthirsty enough to kill them all," Felix mocks.

Dimitri shoots him a glare, "I don't wish to speak to you now, Felix." 

However, Felix's curiosity wins over him when he asks again, "So you needed help?" Prying, and only then Dimitri's lips twitch in that ghost of a smile. His eyes gleam with amusement when he recognizes Felix’s interest in the matter, it’s like they never changed.

"We did, didn't we. They turned out to be very skilled individuals, especially with swords, they helped." Dimitri muses, prizing in Felix's attention. 

"Coming from you... Well, how skilled?" Felix asks, oblivious to the petty jealousy arising within his voice. 

"You can see for yourself tomorrow, they're our new professor," the boar says, smug, getting on Felix's nerves and before he spits something rude about the boar, an arm slides around his shoulder. Felix's reflex is quicker than the voice when he spins the arm around him. He doesn’t let go when his eyes land at the red hair, instead, his grip tightens around the arm. Dimitri flashes a grin at their sight. 

"It’s me, Felix you can- ugh- let me go." Sylvain winces in pain and Felix pulls one more, twists then leaves him alone. 

"Your highness, I must praise you for your choice in our new professor, they are quite the beauty," Sylvain says, serious when he winks at Dimitri. 

"You pest, do you ever stop?" Felix snaps at Sylvain, peeking at the boar's face. _He is blushing._ "I'm leaving." Felix heaves and stalks off to his room. 

He hears the door of Dimitri's room lock, yet Sylvain's voice still slips through the wall between Felix’s and the boar’s room, vague. Felix suspects if Sylvain is dragging the boar to his reckless habits, they’ve been closer these days. 

_As if Felix cares._

They're in endless battles with bandits and thieves, and Felix, hungry for a good fight to savor, doesn’t object. He likes the new professor, Byleth trusts him, consistently puts him in the front formation; where he is supposed to be. 

Felix is grouped closer to the boar in every drill, the professor says Dimitri is too reckless, just ready to sacrifice his life for the purest reasons. Felix hardly believes it before he witnesses it, it's tough to watch when he merely wants to ignore the boar's heroic face, when all that Felix sees is the boar prince jumping at every opportunity to die. 

If Felix was honest, he didn't like being near him in the battle, seeing that Felix is always reminded of the rebellion. If he was honest, he feared what Dimitri could do, all the same during demonic beasts attacks when the boar slaughters it rightfully so, defending their house. Still, Felix feels sick like a child as he watches. 

However, the professor has additional plans for him. Byleth thinks he needs to spend more time with his classmates, from the stable duty to garden work, and cooking, a skill he'll never practice considering he is noble with a major crest, yet Sylvain out of everyone names him a snob at his remark. When he makes an observation of not seeing the boar around the kitchen walls, everyone screams at him, ‘ _his highness breaks everything.’_

Consequently, the least he can do is join the professor when they invite him to dinner with different students, though, Felix doesn't understand how that will benefit him in combat. 

Felix doesn't understand their professor's train of thought, or how dinner together would improve their swordsmanship. He supposes teamwork is always needed in battle, what he didn't expect though is for the boar to be sitting on the exact table the professor had led him to. 

That damned blue man. 

Felix wants to oppose, to take his leave and go, but then he spots the steaks offered on the plates of the table, and he reckons he is doomed to this anyway.

"You constantly trick me like this, you think I'm some sort of child?" He bickers. 

And his professor only nods at that. _This is unforgivable._

So, he takes a seat next to the golden beast, ensuring to exhibit how unpleasant this evening turned out to be. Only to hear the prince welcome him and the professor with false smiles and polite words, fitting for a prince. 

"Well, the cook served the food early, shall we start?" Dimitri asks respectfully and the professor signs for them to start, Felix, makes certain to grunt.

The professor does a good job of dragging Felix to the conversation once in a while, asking him for weapons opinions and what he thinks the blue lions lack in combat, and Felix gladly contributes his thoughts on those matters. 

"The texture is incredibly soft, I bet it tastes wonderful, doesn't it professor?" Dimitri hums as he takes the next bite. The cooks in Firhidid were poor at their taste, Felix recalls. 

Meanwhile, the professor agrees with the boar, Felix feels a sudden firm hold reaching his elbow, "Felix, would you like some of mine? I seem to remember that you used to like meat." the boar says, afraid of being false, yet words sure like he would never be mistaken about this. 

"No, thanks. I don't want it. You eat it." Felix answers. _No, that's too caring._ "Don't want you fainting from hunger." He adds hurriedly. 

The boar merely replies with a polite smile, and they continue on their meal peacefully. 

When Felix finally has time for practice, the training yard is occupied with the boar and the professor. The boar prince’s mouth bears a wide grin, smug whenever he lands a hit. Felix’s eyes follow his footwork, how he slips to a rhythm of eluding and striking, the professor catches on his little dance early. Dimitri tends to maintain this technique, let your opponent learn, catch on, and then confuse them. 

It's simple yet, with Dimitri's innocent smile, he doubts the professor to suspect it of him. Felix wouldn't either if the boar didn't use it on him earlier in the years.

Except, Dimitri allows the professor to get several points on him before he launches adequately, Felix assumes it's to observe Byleth's abilities.

Just as Felix speculated, Dimitri charges differently now, stunning the professor. Felix predicts when Dimitri will cross his lance upon his opponent's legs, startlingly when it was just pointed linearly to his neck. 

Felix feels a little proud. 

Still, the professor certainly isn't easy to knock off, instead, Byleth’s sword counters the attack swiftly, a smoothness Felix has yet to behold such a talent for sword-wielding. He observes the boar's bewilderment, _serves him right._

They carry on their earlier poise, rapid for the eyes, and Felix watches as the students gather around, to observe their swings, meanwhile jealousy spikes in Felix. 

Dimitri seems pleased, though he loses an offense against the professor, he appears sincere. From the look in his eyes and the chewing on his lip, he is working on appearing not so desperate to win, yet Felix recognizes how badly he likes it when he yields a point on the professor. His performance won't work for long, not when his attacks will turn sloppy and unplanned, since he will miss openings because he seeks victory above anything. The only one Dimitri didn't demur to lose against was Glenn. 

Felix watches as what he predicted comes to life, the outcome obvious. The professor clocks off Dimitri's lance to the ground, Felix hears some students whistle, whilst the professor examines, unfazed, he'd appear the same if they lost.

Felix watches Dimitri, sore loser Dimitri, as he attempts a grin at his loss, the professor mouths something to him, and takes their leave. 

Dimitri glances around, searching for Dedue perhaps. Meanwhile, the crowd of students breaks apart. Felix nears the fallen lance, yanks it up, turns on his heels towards Dimitri, and before he begins with his ridiculous greetings, Felix shoves the lance to Dimitri’s chest. “Not so bad, boar.” he starts. 

Felix tracks away as he unsheathes his sword, Dimitri stares like a deer caught in the torchlight. “Come on, you wanted a match,” Felix speaks and Dimitri nods in return and draws an attack.

Felix ducks the first strike easily, Dimitri has been training for goodness knows how much, he ought to be poorer than Felix. "You can't give up on a fight in the middle of a battle you know? You have to quit doing that." Felix pants, wavering his sword expertly as he hops two steps aside to take a new position. 

"I don't do that," Dimitri argues, his brows joined at the accusation. 

"Yes, you do, maybe the professor didn't notice yet, but you'll get yourself killed with this performance," Felix says and drives his sword close to the lance's hold. Dimitri holds strong, resisting with a firm grasp. Swiftly he withdraws his weapon from a bind. “Not that I care,” Felix adds and glimpses an almost pout on the boar’s lips.

_Is he- is he insulted?_

"I, maybe." he wrestles a grip with his leg at Felix's, "am." he overtakes and pressures Felix’s blade tied up to press it aside or down, "impatient." creating a small opening to which he suddenly reverses pressure and slices forward. 

"But I'm not so predictable." 

Felix slumps on his rear, pain already crawling up his legs. The boar's shadow covers him, he is hardly sweating on his perfect yellow hair. Dimitri extends a hand, as typical of the elegant prince; Felix spurns it. 

"Another one?" Dimitri suggests to Felix who only wants to punch him so deeply. "I truly enjoyed this one Felix, it's been a long time." 

"Cut the crap, you only enjoyed beating me." Felix rebukes, standing on his feet and retiring to his room. 

The forceful thumping on the wall next to him wakes him up instantly, the noise comes from the boar's room and Felix grunts at the realization. _Why is he up at goddess knows what time?_

Felix kicks the sheets above him to the floor, he'll cease the noise even if he ought to visit the boar in his sleep. He stands up, and amidst the darkness, flames up the rushlight on his desk. The noise from the next room is still obvious and Felix will stab Dimitri if it's nothing serious. 

When he leaves his room, he begins to contemplate whether he should knock the door or be done with it, and the portrait of Dimitri spread on his sheets, sleeping, bothers him, so he knocks swiftly, all at once the room silences. It's some seconds before Felix impatience rules over him, and he opens the door and searches for Dimitri. 

Dimitri stands next to the door, hiding almost shyly. His shirt's buttons are half undone, crimson inches above his chest. _He has a rash_ , Felix conceives. 

"F-Felix, is everything alright?" He greets, strangely stuttering. 

"Boar, do you have a rash?" Felix examines through the room, for insects or herbs that could cause it. The professor would give them odd flowers on their birthdays, and if this carries the rash, the professor will have to explain it to the royal executors. 

"N-no, saints Felix, you can leave if that's it," Dimitri says, too quickly, that raises Felix's suspicions, Dimitri is never keen on dismissing anyone, too refined. Felix cranes the candle in his hand to the room, and before he searches through it, he catches a glimpse of Dimitri's rose face, his pale cheeks colored, _is it that strong?_

Dimitri tries to cover Felix's view, but Felix simply shoves him away. Although it's cold, the beddings are thrown on the ground, the headboard of his bed is nearly crushed. It's nothing new with the beast's brute strength, they made his royal bed out of gold after all, what catches his attention is some type of oil. 

And it dawns on him, Dimitri was pleasuring himself. 

"B-boar, don't tell me-" He peers down at his pants and tears his gaze right away, Dimitri’s length is apparent in his clothes. 

"Please leave Felix," Dimitri pushes at his body and closes the door hurriedly in Felix’s face, leaving Felix still at his door, he gulps startled. _The goddess loathes him._

When he retreats to his room, he is too drowsy to hinder imagining Dimitri, bashful, and at his mercy, bringing himself to pleasure. 

Felix ignores Dimitri, _tries to._ It's hard when the professor keeps assigning them tasks together. Dimitri still reaches for him, opens unnecessary subjects to discuss with Felix, as if Felix doesn't normally spit in his face when he does. He must've been strangely quiet while Dimitri speaks, but whenever he glimpses at Dimitri, he can't help but stares down at his pants, horribly embarrassed, but Felix is young and so he doesn't ask his body, _why?_

It becomes unbearably worse sometimes when they're in the sauna or showers. Felix is a man, and during dead nights, where he doesn't have to pretend that Dimitri is an animal, fantasies steer his head, lewd and arousing, so he helps himself. Only at night where the darkness is the sole witness to his filthiness. 

He tries to avoid the boar in the mornings, but it's not sufficient. Dimitri asks him after their dinner to clash swords anyway, he demands _enthusiastically_ to work a new skill on Felix, and Felix only fixes him a glare, just to later accept, because damn him and his love for a good fight. "I assume I have nothing better to do," He says and makes certain his displeasure is clear, yet Dimitri so finely smiles at him. 

Felix knows how to make use of the boar, knows how to handle him. He justifies his awful ideas lately with it, as Felix is the only one who can handle the beast in combat and other areas. He knows what lies behind the mask, unlike others. Felix and the boar are at their best when they are paired together, teamed up so well that not even he can object against it. It's true because it's all that he was taught. The boar moves, and his shield compliments it. 

It's an asset for Felix when they have a match, the professor said so too and Felix recognizes, wishes Dimitri understands why he sometimes falls losing. Young they are, Dimitri decides to sharpen new moves and it thrills Felix. The boar beats him with lances, and it grows to be a fluke if Felix is victorious when they are against each other. So what if Felix practices with Sylvain and Ingrid on lances, he has to make the boar yield in every spear he holds. 

Felix waits for the boar prince in the training yard, ready for a fight. Hands wave the sword there and then on a dummy, eager to spill filthy blood. It's considerably late for training, the night pitches on them easily. Felix likes the darkness, it's honest and sound, the training yard is all his when it falls. Most students are asleep and its solitude comforts him. The boar and he will be alone like this. 

Felix senses a sudden presence, eyes glued to his back. "Come out of your hole, boar." He says aloud and listens to Dimitri’s striding to Felix's side. He tries not to avert his gaze from the dummy yet he maintains a quick flick at the boar's red cheeks. He was caught gawking after all. 

If Dimitri thinks he'll pick any of Felix's latest movements, he is wrong. 

"Well? Get on with it," He speaks when he spots the sword Dimitri carries, prepared. And he finally stills in one spot, adjusting his hold to the hilt of his sword, it's similar to Felix's. Felix admires long swords while Dimitri favors them firm, forceful. They’re the only two who train with real swords, as Dimitri lets him raise a steel sword against him, trusting. 

Dimitri flashes him a toothed grin, "Come at me then." He nearly growls, waving his sword around and waiting for Felix’s attack. For some reason, he doesn’t strike first.

Felix raises his brow at this, lifts his sword to indeed strike first. "Are you underestimating me, boar?" He ridicules and advances at him, solely to erase that smug smile on his face. 

Dimitri meets his blow instead of dodging it efficiently and for a split second Felix questions such a fool strategy. Just then Dimitri's leg attacks him from behind. Felix doesn't grasp when he places it there and in seconds he is on the ground, thudding, while his sword flies out of his control. He clenches at his fist at his sides to the sound of his defeat, and the shadow of Dimitri falls on him and when he glances up at him, the boar is licking at his teeth, a silly wide grin on his face. The joy of defeating Felix is clear on his face, blinding when Felix doesn’t dart his eyes away. Felix sits on his back, "What do you think," Dimitri asks hastily, offering a hand for Felix to stand up. The perfect prince does that every time as if he hasn't memorized Felix's spurning. 

"Don't be so full of yourself," He gets to his feet hastily, placing himself in position. They don't need to ask for another round and another and another, both of them keen to beat the other to the ground. Felix hates the similarities between them, it only speaks of how different they would be if the beast didn't take over Dimitri. 

Felix is at the boar's throat this time, wielding his sword one, two times, and the third draws a cut through Dimitri's blue cape. It's not enough to make the boar yield or elbow him to the dirt. Dimitri is skilled at parrying, it's the first skill they mastered, compared to who is the most experienced at riposte that Dimitri shouldn't risk his luck. He chooses to stab through the air, letting Dimitri consider he has an opening, and the boar falls for his trick. The excitement races through Felix’s blood; he'll bring him to the ground where boars should be. He knocks Dimitri off balance, and gains a wrestling grip to hold him down. His hand snakes to Dimitri's neck, his pulse quivering under his fingers.

"Not so confident now, are we?" He smirks down at Dimitri's hot face. His mouth parts slowly, and only now Felix notices the sweat drips under his hand, handsome on the boar's face, hanging onto the pink lips, asking to be licked and-

_Felix is damned._

"Again?" The boar suggests for Felix to get off him. Felix does, after some considerable moments after he relishes Dimitri beneath him gasping. "Again," He answers. 

Again it is, and again until Felix learns the new tactic Dimitri worked on him the first match. He takes a blow to his arm and rips through the white sleeve. Again and again, until Felix's hair is drenched wet, spitting blood. Dimitri's blonde fringe sticks to his forehead, his lips tinted with blood, a sight to behold, and Felix wonders if he looks as desirable. 

_To knockdown of course._

One more time, Dimitri says and saints know how long they have been at it, the moon is gentle on them while they work swords on each other. Dimitri grows impatient, his moves not as sluggish as Felix but reckless, no plan to carry them as if he is hunting for a mindless prey. Sometimes that works, when you have brutal strength and can maintain pressure, dominate the blade of your opponent and trap them so that with any move they make, their sword sweeps away. Meanwhile, the next time the boar moves, Felix sees what's coming and yet he can't deflect it. The boar sends his sword traveling and a weary grin plasters on his face. He glances back at Felix, victorious. 

Except, Felix has a wicked surprise for Dimitri, he draws a blade from behind his pants, a common trick he learned from their professor. After all a true battle isn’t weapons and spears. He can't remain from smirking wolfishly at the shock on Dimitri's face, with careful steps he nears the stiffened boar prince. Felix holds the knife into the prince's throat, the smirk clear like the flat of his blade. 

But he can't savor it before the boar kicks at his leg, knocks him clean off balance and lets them fall on top of each other. Felix's knife is at his own throat soon, his head shouts, the weight on his body is hefty and when Felix snaps from his shock, Dimitri is studying at his face, with a sharp gaze, that of a leering hunter long gone. Felix burns under him, defeated while pressed firm into the ground. The impact will make his back sting terribly in the morning. He struggles against the body on him, aware that he can’t shrug the strong man off, though attempts to buck his hips up angrily, only he is met with strong knees hugging harder around him and not letting go. 

Dimitri's heavy pants follow a small horrible smirk tugging at the end of his lips, red-hot claws holding on his wrists above his head, not damp like Dimitri’s hair covering his brow and Dimitri Dimitri Dimitri surrounds him all. Dimitri burrows through him, eyes so blue that resembles the sky above him. Sometimes Dimitri visits him, from the dead. He takes the beast’s skin, his skin back, it's not fair. Princely eyes that clutch into his, not to avert from him.

“I win” he breathes above a whisper, but then, Dimitri is leaning in, Knife still at Felix's throat, softly pushing his lips on Felix's, gentle and unlike the rough edge of the dagger.

The kiss is nothing like Dimitri, and everything like the damned beast, brutal, teeth, and tongue sucking on him, opens his mouth and the fool Felix lets him in, breath punched out of him. Felix lets him bruise and take, the taste of blood is in his mouth, or might that be the taste of love? 

When Dimitri pulls back, the sweat glazed on him shines under the flaming torches. Meanwhile, his smile doesn’t last, the realization of what he just did kicks in, and oh, shocked just like their first time he ever kissed Felix, Felix muses bitterly. 

However, Dimitri doesn’t flinch from above him. Only stares with fear, the grip he holds Felix with loosens, and Felix takes the matter into his own hands. “Boar,” He yelps below him, and within seconds he wraps his legs around the boar’s hips, flipping them over and Dimitri gasps in surprise. Felix lowers his gaze on him now, Dimitri still looks in fear of something and Felix doesn’t know or why the answer to that lies within kissing him, though he does. 

He shoves his tongue in, urgent and deep. Dimitri’s hand reaches for his hair and he pulls the ribbon that holds his hair steady as if it’s anything close to steady after their match. Before Felix’s strands fall on his face, the boar’s claws clutch on them instead, using them to propel Felix’s mouth further on his and Felix swallows their moans. 

The boar shifts, moves, and his hands search across Felix’s body, touching, no, _grasping_ , and Felix jerks them away. Dimitri’s fingers claw at his wrists again, firm and forceful, commanding him to be in control. 

When Dimitri wrenches his wrist, Felix pulls away threatening, “ _Boar_ ,” and the boar uses the opportunity to sit back and drive Felix again to the rough ground and on his back. _“Damn you,”_ Felix half shrieks. He expects the beast’s lips on his again and when they are not, his eyes peer at Dimitri, biting harshly at his lower bloodied lip. “Get off me, you beast,” Felix grumbles, not meaning any word of it. 

“Felix,” Dimitri groans, unmoving, slumping even, he bends his face down to anywhere Felix can’t see him, and Felix springs his hips up, an attempt to push him off. 

Yet, he accidentally brushes over the boar’s groin, hard above him. 

Felix realizes poorly, this is why he won’t budge from above him. He still hides his face, the blonde locks dry now prodding at the side of his face, and Dimitri’s arm is almost hugging at his waist uneasy. 

Felix takes a deep breath. _Saints have mercy on him._

“At least take me to bed before you’re hard in your breeches, boar.” The boar’s claws squeeze on Felix’s shirt at his words, so close to his waist. He suddenly sits up, eyes wide and body flushed to the tips of his ears. He holds Felix’s gaze, a silent agreement passes between them. 

Felix scrambles over the ground, Dimitri turns around and rushes back to the monastery, not looking behind. Felix treads on his heels, considering that their rooms are next to each other. Their swords are left in the yard, long forgotten. Felix doesn’t spare them a glance when his eyes are busy lingering onto the back of the boar prince. 

Before they arrive, their pace allied, they hear a strange movement, close to their dorm. Dimitri turns his head around to Felix, brows furrowed and worried. He slows his tracks, lower until they are quiet. The boar motions to a narrow dark hallway, or an entrance for some cleaning room. Felix doesn’t bother, he is just dragged by warm claws. 

They remain wordless until a feminine voice rings through the hallway. Felix eyes Dimitri, who has his hands clenched to his chest in panic, waits to recognize the voice, bending an ear to overhear. It's a humorous appearance on the polite prince. 

Felix makes out when Dimitri smiles finally in relief upon clearing the person in question. He meets Felix’s gaze and the swordsman raises his brow in question to who it is, just for Dimitri to lean toward Felix. Felix glares at him and steps back, but Dimitri follows him until they are pressed against a wall. Dimitri cups Felix’s cheeks and leans to take his lips within his mouth, muffling Felix’s complaints. 

Between breaths and the high, the voice corners them. He had a glimpse of who it could be, his eyes resting on them when Dimitri’s did. “Manuela?” He whispers against the boar’s cheek and hears a hum, offers him a playful grin. Felix resents happiness after the boar made him so miserable.

“She won’t see us.” The boar whispers back and tips into his neck. Felix doesn’t know why he is so confident she won’t, but he never imagined Dimitri was one for a shameless act. What if she catches them? Or is that what the boar wants… 

Regardless, outrageously, Felix’s crotch twitches in anticipation, and hoping that the boar didn’t notice, he forces him off.

After waiting some moments and when they’re lastly at their rooms, they embarrassingly hold each other’s gaze, “Sylvain or Claude?” Dimitri asks hesitantly. 

They both knew the answer, obvious when stumbling into Dimitri’s room. 

It's fast, slow. They just move and push at each other, control lost between the snapped button shirt of Felix's or his struggle at undoing the boar's pants. The fond stares Dimitri dozes off to, the ones Felix chooses to overlook the best. 

Felix grips at the strong thighs, hand inching towards the prince's big, growing problem, still hard, grinding into his hand. Felix smirks, amused at Dimitri who is reduced to a moaning mess. Meanwhile, the boar guides him into a messy kiss, and Felix keeps his mouth open for the boar to fuck it. 

They're the most inexperienced but they make it work. Although Felix suspects sometimes that Dimitri is familiar with this, the teeth tugging on his earlobe, the groaning into his ears, and the knowing hands, Felix decides to disregard because Dimitri still kisses horribly, they both do. 

Felix's blood boils when Dimitri impels him to the bed, biting and sucking at the skin below his half ripped shirt as he kneels between Felix’s legs. His gloves lower Felix's pants in one movement and Felix allows him, lifts his hips for better access. Dimitri smirks up and complies with a lick through Felix's small clothes, making him hiss. _He has done this before,_ his thoughts swirl in his head. 

Before Felix's breeches are gone, he tilts Dimitri's chin to lock their eyes, the words quick before he can catch them. "This isn't your first time." his thumb aches into the pale perfect chin, Dimitri opens his mouth, and instead of arguing, he swallows Felix's thumb, his tongue lapping around the finger, starving and lewd. 

Felix drinks the sight in, his cock desperate for any touch, a brush, or anything. Felix observes when he drives another finger into the boar's mouth, he takes it willingly and moans around them like a common whore. 

"You would let anyone do this to you, won't you." The boar groans again, causing Felix to throb in his small clothes.

Felix suddenly chuckles, pulls his finger from Dimitri's wet heat, and oh, Dimitri looks like a whore with all the spit still joined at his fingers, and face confused, concerned when Felix laughs. Felix would explode instantly if he wasn't a competitive freak, he is just a virgin.

"Can I?" Dimitri asks, hands tight on the briefs, voice already strained. 

"Pretending to be polite now?" Felix taunts, to which Dimitri yanks his hand away, "if you don't want it just say so." He mutters unimpressed. 

Felix scowls at him, "Go on." And Dimitri does, tugs the last piece away.

He eyes his dick like a reward, a treat Dimitri finally gets with hunger and want, licking up at his lips. “H-hurry up,” is all Felix can say before Dimitri, the sick beast, looks him in the eye, piercing at his soul as he takes the crown, opening his mouth so deliciously, and takes more and more, pink lips stretched around his girth and Felix grows impossibly harder.

The mouth on him is warm, so good and pliant. He forces every 'Felix' thought away, buries it down with the moans he can't let fall. 

His lips are experienced, and Felix wants to look below, to see Dimitri as he flicks his tongue and licks a line under his cock, to see the bulge of his shaft down the prince’s throat. He senses this is all that it will take to have him done and spent, so he resists the urge to and shuts his eyes. He imagines Dimitri savoring the taste.

It's quiet, only curses at the Goddess in Felix's head, along with the swift slurping sounds filling the room around them. Dimitri devours him down, to the brim, and breathes him in so that Felix can’t keep his whimpers in. Felix can only keep his gaze dropped for so long, so his lashes flutter. They descend to leer at the mess the boar's hungry mouth had made. His determined cheeks hollow, he arches to take more and Felix has to bite at a finger or two to keep silent. 

But what catches him off guard, completely unaware is Dimitri's hand between his thighs, working on his cock. _Saints._ "Of- Ah- Of course, you'd get off this, you boar." He snarls and welcomes the moan on his cock, twitching on the boar’s tongue. Maybe the boar savors being on his knees for nobles, or maybe everyone. 

He shouldn't have said that because when Dimitri's unfocused, glistened eyes glance up to meet his, it has Felix swallowing on his spit. It provokes the boar to fasten his moves, and Felix's mind drifts, with one last thought, _he is so good like this, so pretty, like a girl._

His hands roam around and finally land on the dirty blonde strands, pushing Dimitri's hair back from his forehead, and grabs a handful of his strands to steer him. The sounds from his lips slip somewhere among that, "B-boar, come on Boa-" he hears himself repeat. Thrusts cruel and fast, uncaring. Meanwhile, tears are pricking up at the corners of the boar’s eyes. Felix’s fingers tug harder at the scalp between his thighs, " Di- Boar... Come on." He swallows the unfamiliar syllables that threaten to spill, even spit it. It's a whine, a voice further away. Felix can't even recognize it as his own. 

Dimitri stills under him, stops and catches Felix's sight again. He blinks with widened eyes, starved and longing, but doesn't allow Felix to dwell on it as he goes back to sucking like nothing before, a rewarded puppy more or less, eager to please, and Felix shudders and spills right then. 

Dimitri gulps it all, like a thirsty animal.

The boar works himself, on the floor still, head collapsed next to Felix’s crotch. Felix yearns to ask Dimitri to ogle at him when he reaches his peak, or at his still clothed shaft. His eyes half-lidded, drowsy but he still stares at beautiful smeared Dimitri. 

The boar finally turns his gaze to him, Felix wilts under it. The boar smiles, bares his vile teeth and his used lips, Felix doesn’t understand what’s funny about it, but he gets to see the boar undone himself, just like in his fantasies, lolling his head back, and releasing one final groan, so human-like. A sight Felix hopes he doesn’t forget in the morning or think of it as another dream.

When Felix wakes up, he is faced with the boar asleep ... A sight that equally resembles the Dimitri in his childhood memories. Mouth half open, his brows knitted endearingly. The rash that climbed at his body yesterday has faded into this tint of pink. He tries not to take it in as it counters his fair hair, the rise of his broad chest, now covered in his nightclothes. 

He doesn't hug Felix, his arms stiffly pressed around his body awkwardly that Felix believes it's out of despair for him. Felix's pants are tightly pressed around his waist, he doesn't feel as sticky as he assumed he would be or maybe Dimitri had cleaned them before he fell asleep. The memories of last night burn at his cheeks, and within seconds he is out of the bed, making sure not to wake the boar up. 

The sun didn't rise yet and so Felix runs to his bedroom before anyone awakes. 

He doesn't allow his mind to slip before he is asleep again in his bed, with that taste of heartache. 

In the morning, Sylvain throws an arm around Dimitri's shoulder and plants himself next to him in their food hall. The boar jolts, and smiles gently at him. Felix doesn't realize he is gawking until Sylvain stares him in the eyes, muttering something to Dimitri's ear. Felix lowers his gaze instantly, stabbing at his food. 

"Is everything alright, Felix?" Ashe asks beside him, concerned.

"Yes," Felix answers and continues to jab at his plate, glimpsing back at Sylvain who casts the prince a fond look while the boar giggles at some joke Sylvain cracked, hiding his mouth with a polite hand. 

_How did Felix not notice?_

Later, when Felix is practicing alone with a dummy, he hostilely twists the insides of the dummy with his new sword, stabbing again and again at the same spot. He feels the heat of other's gazes on him, confused and weirded out by him. 

Felix feels another heavy, lingering gaze on him. 

_The boar._

Felix ignores it, avoids looking behind his back. The boar doesn't corner him in the yard, perhaps Felix is going insane after yesterday. 

He knows Dimitri, he knows how much he likes to communicate and be assured everyone is content with his act, as if talking would solve anything or would make Felix resent him any less.

Felix recognizes his footsteps anywhere, he is raised to, he knows when the boar is as close to him as an arm's length. Still, he refuses to whirl around.

"Felix." 

_Goddess damn it._

"Felix, I think we need to-" As soon as the boar starts, Felix cuts him sharply. Of course they need to talk, but they don’t _have_ to. "No." He says hurriedly as if it’ll stop Dimitri or this conversation from happening. Unfortunately, he knows how persistent the other is. "-have a talk, maybe over some tea?" The boar proposes, and Felix spins, met with a displeased face as if he is the one who gives Dimitri a headache and not the other way around. 

"I said no, boar, can't you hear," Felix says, and propels his blade under Dimitri's chin. The boar stares up at him, disbelief coating his princely eyes. His gaze follows to the tip of the sword pointed at him. "Felix, you're being delirious," Dimitri says and lowers the blade with his palm.

"Delirious? What about having a look in the mirror, boar." Felix spits and grazes the blade into Dimitri's gauntlets, hard enough that drips of his blood begin to touch the ground. 

"Felix," Dimitri grunts, stern and ready to order, yet he doesn't remove the blade. Felix drapes it above his shoulder, still stained with blood

"If you don't wish to discuss it because you're embarrassed, we can speak another day or time, when you feel ready," Dimitri voices, like a speech. 

"Why would I be embarrassed, boar. Heh, you truly are something." Felix says, sensing the flare of anger writhing to his breaking point. "Fine, you want to talk, let's talk. 

"You are nothing more than a mere lusting beast, a slaying machine. Looking at you only makes me wanna retch, I merely allowed myself yesterday to see your true face. If you think you’ll seduce me this way into thinking you’re human or to like you, you’re wrong.”

Dimitri’s face dissolves from an upset look into a fit of laughter in the blink of an eye. Felix’s face twists in astonishment, “What’s so funny, boar?”

But, the boar can _hardly_ breathe, chuckling into his wounded palm, “My apologies, oh Felix, seduce you? What do you take me for, Sylvain?” He throws his head back laughing, like a little kid, “Was it that good?” He proceeds to tantalize Felix. The boar laughs in his face and turns his back to stray to the monastery, while Felix flushes to his ears. 

“Where are you going, your beastliness,” he calls but the boar doesn’t answer him. “Right, get out of my sight,” Felix mutters to the air. 

The new center of Felix’s attention is outrageous, absurd, and drives Felix to shame. 

Sylvain and Dimitri are attached by the hip when the professor assigns the stable work to them. Felix listens when Dimitri scolds the redhead, or when he laughs and calls Sylvain ‘evil’ and Sylvain tells him he’ll show him evil and Felix can hear the wink in his voice. 

Felix shouldn’t feel bothered, or angered, he’ll take what he needs from the boar and throw him wanting for Sylvain, the boar deserves such treatment. 

Right? Right. 

Except, Felix regards everything as a competition, and he’ll win. 

So, he does the absolutely forbidden at night, and he knocks at Dimitri’s door feverishly. The boar doesn’t even ask who would come at this hour, opens it, and Felix shoves the door to enter and locks it quickly behind him. Dimitri stares at him in surprise, they’re close like this and Felix didn’t think about what to do past the door. 

Before the boar says anything, Felix lunges on him, crashing his lips against the boar. The kiss is blue, longing and the boar parts his mouth amid kisses to ask, but Felix shuts him up.

“F-Felix, I can’t help but ask,” he spells against Felix’s lips. Felix teases between them with simple brushes of his lips. “Then do not,” Felix drones before another kiss. His aggressive tongue opens Dimitri’s mouth and the boar’s moans spill into him. They don’t have to like each other to do this, Felix convinces himself as his hand reaches for the blonde strands, soft and pliant when Felix’s hand clutches them. ”Why have you come here today, Felix.” Dimitri groans. 

Felix raises an eyebrow and withdraws at the question, but he is exceptionally generous today. ”I think you know why I'm here,” he says. Dimitri tries to hold his gaze, an attempt to see some truth but Felix is quick to avert them somewhere else, like Dimitri’s broad shoulders. 

Dimitri hums, ”I do, don't I,” and presses in for another kiss, soft and willing. Felix remembers Sylvain, remembers that Dimitri doesn’t need love from him, doesn't lack praise and soft kisses. He needs something more, something only Felix can give him. Felix remembers and bites, ravishes at his lips.

The boar is still hungry for more, planting kisses along his jaw. Dimitri bares Felix’s neck with a hold on his nape and grazes his teeth on it. A horrible whine erupts from Felix’s throat. 

He feels when Dimitri smirks when his tongue licks possessively at his neck, and Felix’s hand clutches into the boar’s shirt to stay on his feet. The boar’s teeth only tease, they don’t sink into his skin, bite at his flesh like how he wants.

“Come on, why won’t you bite me boar?” He struggles to breathe. He wants to know how much the boar revels in tormenting him and maybe part of Felix does too. He wants all of the beast.

"Hmmm, why do you like it, Felix?" Innocent eyes find his, hands drop onto him, familiar, tracing his body, holding him like a doll and brushing over his clothed cock. Felix swears he sees a hint of a manic smile. Dimitri’s palm grinds against his cock. Felix wants release, and it’s so shameful, he covers his mouth instantly afraid of higher moans and pleasing the boar.

He can see Dimitri grinning at the corner of his left eye. "Why do you like it Felix, tell me please." His voice drops more and more, to arousal or something more that goes straight to Felix’s dick. His hand rests on Felix's neck again, exposing more and tilting it just right, the right direction to let him suck, doll him up the way Felix wants to be, marked by him. 

"Felix, tell me," He encourages upon his skin, and Felix’s dick twitches hard in his hand. He shuts his eyes, dares not to open them when the boar insists, "You seem to enjoy this, Fe." At the nickname, he yields a groan to his palm. "Let me hear you," the boar whispers the order as softness wavers in his voice. He takes Felix’s hand from his mouth into his fingers and Felix can't spit something bitter, can't think of something brutal when there are lips again on his neck, down on his pointed bones. Dimitri seems to not get enough, urgent hands coming to pull his shirt. Dimitri wants more skin and he is going to take it. 

Felix hears the rip before he feels it. He is about to lose his mind. 

Soon, there is a hand digging in his underclothes, not even bothering to push his pants down. He feels humiliated or overwhelmed, Felix can’t discern, with Dimitri's unusual talk, praises and curses at the saints. He never caught him uttering a curse in his life and Felix bucks his hips up at the thought. Nothing drove Dimitri crazy enough to curse, this is all Felix's work. He peers down at Dimitri's pants, tight on him, hard line shaping him. Felix craves the heat against his mouth, to nuzzle and gasp for it, and he bucks his hips recalling how it felt to have him hard on his thigh a few nights ago. 

"You," the boar lets out a strangled breath. He hopes the boar is losing his mind too. Dimitri’s hand is rubbing harder at the head of his girth, heat racing within Felix’s whole body. His chest must be dark red now, just how the beast must love it. "You are loving this," the boar’s voice is thick, sending shivers down Felix’s spine. 

"N-no," Felix tardily utters, trembling, with his hands helplessly settling on Dimitri's shoulder. He feels the heat of Dimitri’s gaze on him, unmoving. Felix realizes it was the wrong answer. 

"No?" Dimitri echoes, his voice steady but Felix catches the discontent nevertheless. He wants Dimitri to sweat blood for it. Felix dares to glance at him. Dimitri seems unimpressed, hungry dark eyes as his hand stills on his dick; Felix wants to cry. Felix's thighs are quivering, this was a mistake he can't, can't let him see him like this, begging for him with almost flooded eyes. 

"Then, what would you like Felix?" he rasps into his ear. What does Felix want, _saints_ what does he want? His head whirls.

Younger Felix wants all of Dimitri, he craves whatever Dimitri would give him and he has to remind himself again, _this is not Dimitri_. 

Felix chases after the prince's lips, he just wants them on him, everywhere. No he _needs_ them. Marking him over and over, digging his teeth hard like he wouldn't to Sylvain. He wants him to answer his question without words, to know what Felix wants like he always does, but Dimitri is cruel, pulling away as Felix keeps following for just one kiss _._ He knows he is throbbing into Dimitri's palm, he can't do anything to hide the desire now. He is going to be compliant just this time. 

"What do you wa-" Dimitri starts again and Felix can't hold anymore. Dimitri has finally broken him, with every touch and whisper. Felix isn’t strong enough to push him away now, he needs to get what he wants from Dimitri now.

He bites his lip harshly before he regrets his words, "y-you, come on, boar," and it’s enough to tear a pleased groan out of the collected prince. Guiding Dimitri's hand around his member, he feels fingers tangle between his dark strands with a rough hold, exposing his throat. ' _Let it bruise your highness.'_ he imagines Sylvain saying. The boar lays a hand on his neck, testing the heartbeat underneath his fingers and Felix shivers, almost protesting, when Dimitri finally bites. 

*

Felix feels fingers playing at his hair. He attempts to snap his eyes open, but struggles to do so. The heat of the boar’s gaze on him makes him shift, another attempt to open them scares Dimitri away. 

He succeeds and Dimitri withdraws at once. Felix thinks he imagined the caresses before. 

“What are you still doing here?” Felix mumbles, his voice thick with sleep, listening to the rustle of covers next to him. Felix doesn’t shift yet, even when the heat of Dimitri’s body is inviting. He waits for his answer patiently.

“Not many people had headed to their bed yet, I didn’t want to embarrass you,” Dimitri hums, evoking a scowl on Felix’s face. Felix is surprised the other didn’t fall asleep yet and Felix feels ashamed, he always drops dead after he spills. 

“Well, it’s late enough now, you can go.”

“It’s my room, Felix,” Dimitri says and Felix’s eyes dart wide.

“Oh.” 

“You can stay, Felix,” Dimitri says, and Felix tends his head to the side, where Dimitri lies. Felix can see the faint blush high on his cheeks through the dark curtain of his hair. 

Felix is still covered, but he feels the heat of his naked chest against the sheets. Dimitri, however, is fully dressed. 

_Stupid boar._

“Don’t be ridiculous, where is my shirt?” He says, heaving his body against the bed’s headboard. His eyes examine the room and then cast on the boar scoldingly. The recognition of what had become of his shirt has hit him, of course the boar couldn’t restrain his strength for once. Dimitri gives him a silly smile. 

“It was in shreds, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t really seem sorry, Felix squints at him. Dimitri shrugs helplessly, “I could always give you one of my shirts or… you can stay here tonight.” He suggests. Not only his words are hesitant but his eyes waver somewhere else. “If you want to,” he tackles off, fixing Felix a strange look. Felix wilts under the gaze of the boar, covers himself with silk again, and shifts to face the wall peacefully.

“I didn’t know you like that,” Dimitri says intruding the peace, breath still stuck to his throat. 

“Like, what?” Felix tries to bite back but fails miserably. 

“When I’m authoritative.” Dimitri elaborates and Felix wonders, _where is this going._ It’s apparent that Dimitri wants to talk about this, to embarrass Felix who is kind enough that he hasn’t punched his face. Felix turns to glare at him then, “What do you mean.” 

“Assertive like a king,” And Felix knows he’s holding back a grin.

“Don’t you dare, boar, I’m threatening you.” 

“But you do, Sylvain said it’s possible to like certain strange things,” The grin was perfectly evident on his face now.

“You listen to Sylvain now? He thinks it’s possible to like everything.” Felix gets out of the bed at the insulting discussion, searching for an unrecognizable shirt through Dimitri’s stuff.

“Is it not,” Dimitri proposes and Felix can feel his lingering gaze on his exposed back. Felix’s hair is loose and long from behind. He knows Dimitri likes it. “Did you not like that, Felix?” the boar repeats, concerned now. 

“Shut up, I didn’t say anything!” Felix snaps at the tendency of the boar to worry. He glances back at him, looking for a hurt reaction, but he is met with the boar worrying his lips from a shit-eating grin. Sylvain’s rubbing off on him, _in every way._

“You’re an animal.” He states. e He finds a suitable shirt and puts it on. Dimitri’s eyes are on him again, his clothes are nearly the same size as Felix’s, only slightly looser, comfortable even and so much like Glenn’s when they were kids.

“Where are you going?” the boar questions, confused yet not hindering him.

“To kill Sylvain,” Felix says, fixing his shirt. 

"Please do not.”

Felix waits for Dimitri to ask him again to stay, pretends to fiddle with his boots under Dimitri’s gaze.

“Feli-” 

“Fine,” Felix groans dramatically, “Only this time.” He grimaces and falls between the soft sheets again. As long as Felix can curse at him in the daylight, he is fine.

It doesn't stop after _this_ one time as he promised himself it would. Felix is a fool for allowing pleasure to get in the way of his goals and values. 


	4. Chapter 4

Felix hates waving his sword alone. The cool air is his only companion; they don’t have classes today so no student bothers with practice. _Spoiled nobles._

“Just who I expected to find here,” arises a clever voice from behind him.

“Ugh,” Felix groans. “If you’re not here to train then take your leave and go,” he says pointedly, looking behind him to spot the golden attire. 

“Felix, just as sweet as ever,” Claude smiles and steps closer as if he is truly considering dueling. 

Felix wouldn’t oppose that, he never crossed blades with the golden leader. He might as well try a new challenge, a new _thrill_. 

“I’m not quite skilled with swords, yet.” He glances down the weapons put out for practice, picking between the rusted swords. “So, forgive me if I don’t meet your expectations.” He continues with his rich tone. 

“Just get on with it,” Felix grunts. 

Both of them take their positions on the training ground and Felix’s heart thumps. _This_ is his favorite part, the approach. 

They step forward, each step solid and closing the distance, as they circle each other. Felix’s hold to his grip tightens. He knows Claude isn’t like him, Claude won’t advance first since he isn’t as quick with swords. 

Hence, Felix takes it to his ego to strike first, he’ll end his opponent. Felix makes an experimental swing at Claude and Claude meets him for the blow, smiling and earning a frown from Felix.

Felix swipes his sword thoroughly, but Claude blocks it, and Felix does it again and again at a brutal pace, his mind screaming retreat and plan a tactic, but pride won’t let him fall backward without one more blow at Claude.

Then, Felix drives an under-cut, thrusting from below his waist solid and strong at the other’s blade, making Claude fly onto his back. Felix _grins_ , big and wolfish. 

Claude is quick to jump to his feet, balancing himself. Unlike some other foes, he is agile and full of smiles despite being knocked down.

Felix advances again, attacking at his openings. There are so many of them Felix gets to choose where to thrust. So he twirls the sword at Claude’s shoulder, pushing the rest of Claude’s body with one hand to the ground. Yet Claude resists and bounces back again, a few more steps away from Felix.

Felix _feels_ his cheekbones ache from the smirk he holds, Claude is keeping up a fight and it earns Felix a fire racing through his blood.

“Say, Felix,” He hears Claude from afar. “I was searching for _his highness_ here, you know? He is usually here.” But Claude emphasizes _his highness_ , it catches Felix off guard. “Honestly, I wanted to ask him about something, but hey, you can assist me with it too,” Claude says impatiently. 

“Out with it,” Felix rushes, he has no endurance nonetheless.

“Have you too been hearing peculiar noises late at night?” He puts his bare hand on his chin, acts to recall it, “or perhaps strange cries?” 

Felix is about to kill him, he’ll draw a clean-cut and finish him before Claude utters anymore nonsense. 

“You should know better than to speak during combat,” Felix grits, breath caught in his lungs, but Claude has a mischievous smile on his lips, clear and irritating. Felix itches to wipe it away.

“Oh trust me, I do.” 

“Then shut up.” Felix moves again, stabbing through the air. Claude is still in his spot, ready to block. Felix strikes with strength, lingering on the other’s sword. Claude’s eyes twinkle with mirth knowing his words are on spot, infuriating Felix. He goes on even when their swords are clashing. “I decided to find Dimitri, but his room is either locked or empty.” His pants grow heavier, Felix pushes into his sword harder and he hopes it shuts him up.

“But so is yours.” Claude finishes. Owing to that, Felix forces him to the ground with his might. He quickly overpowers Claude, placing a boot onto his weapon arm, his sword pointed between Claude’s eyes.

Felix’s eyes bore into the body under him, and finally, the smile of the golden leader vanishes. If Felix is victorious, he doesn’t taste it. 

“It’s ‘his highness’, to you,” Felix says under his breath. 

Claude grins again, raising a brow at Felix, intent to rile him up. “I believe you didn’t take a liking for him.”

“It’s none of your concern.” Felix drives his heel in other’s hand, hard enough to hear Claude groan. 

“Alright, I think you won Felix.” He says as he shoves the leg on top of him away. He stands and caresses his back. Felix frowns. 

“Count this as mere advice from a friend-” Claude starts while his eyes travel upon his form, perhaps to see if any damage was done. He reminds him of Sylvain in moments.

“We aren’t in any form friends.” Felix tries to stop whatever nonsense Claude is about to spew, but the other doesn’t even listen to him. Maybe Sylvain isn’t that bad, Felix resolves. 

“- for the future.” Keep it down.” Claude gives a filthy smirk. 

Felix will first kill Claude, then Dimitri, and then himself.

“You’re a pest you know. If you don’t mind your own business you’ll end up all alone.” He cuts sharply. 

“Felix, you wound me.” Claude’s eyes are fixated on him, completely unbothered. It sickens Felix but he comes to understand that Claude is relishing taunting him 

“We ought to have another match with bows some other time,” Claude says gaily, but Felix only shoots him a sharp look in his way. “Or maybe not,” Claude corrects.

Felix doesn’t reply, instead, he moves away to cleanse his dear sword. He wants to comment when his eyes follow Claude who fancies another way to polish his sword, he keeps the remark to himself as he observes. _Idiot_. 

Felix catches a glimpse of the boar nearing the training grounds. This would be too convenient for Claude, Felix considers. Quickly, he shoves his sword between his house’s weapons inventory, not looking back when Claude calls for him. 

Felix is swift on his feet when he passes Dimitri. He hears him ask if he wants to duel, all princely eager smiles, and Felix mumbles a simple, “Shut up boar.” 

Claude will have his fun with the beast, Felix imagines Dimitri flustering and stuttering on his words and it’s not a bad portrait. 

Later at night, when Felix hears the doors shutting in the hall, he waits patiently as a certain someone hasn’t returned to their room. 

The sudden knocking on his door shakes him from his thoughts, and Felix recognizes it’s Dimitri, not because he has the boar’s knocking nature drilled into his head from when they were children, but because the only two that bother him in his room are Dimitri and Sylvain and well, Sylvain never knocks. 

He opens the door just to grimace at his beast of a guest. “Maybe don’t wake up the whole church.” 

“My apologies, Felix,” He whispers elegantly as if he isn’t here to kneel on his knees for Felix. Dimitri’s head cranes past Felix. “Will you let me in?” Felix only pretends to study Dimitri, as though he hasn’t been waiting for his arrival. 

He steps aside after a few seconds, to prove he isn’t that keen. As soon as Dimitri enters, he grabs Felix’s hand in his metal ones, his other hand pulling at his face, bringing his lips towards Felix’s. Felix doesn’t attempt to resist. Despite having Dimitri’s lips dry on his, they part just fine, craving and greedy for his tongue. Felix’s hand travels to the other’s waist, firm, and traces his fingertips over him. Felix almost shreds the bulky clothes off of Dimitri. 

When Dimitri’s mouth finally leaves him, Felix pushes him onto the bed. Dimitri reluctantly falls back on the mattress, and Felix gets out of his nightshirt instantly and jumps on the wide-eyed beast. He strangles both of Dimitri’s wrists, his body grinding deliberately on Dimitri’s, careful not to meet his groin. 

He sees Dimitri’s eyes travel through his body, as his tongue runs at his lips and his fingers twitch only to touch. When Felix’s gaze holds his, Felix raises a brow at him and Dimitri flushes deeply, red reaching his ears; Felix nearly grins at it. He likes Dimitri like this, under him and at his mercy and by the looks of it, Dimitri likes it too. 

“Felix...” Dimitri forces out, already breathy. He is a sight for the eye like this, withering for Felix to do something. Felix wants him to shake for it; beg the way the boar makes him do sometimes.

“Not yet,” Felix replies and likes the way Dimitri roughly mewls at it. “Alright, go on, tell me what Claude has spoken to you,” Dimitri gulps distinctly, turning more crimson, to Felix’s liking. 

“I’m assuming he has teased you too,” Dimitri lifts his head to catch Felix’s eyes. “I think you already know what’s been said.” 

“Yet, you come here tonight, you are a hungry boar.” Felix levels a glare at him. Dimitri appears scandalized, his hands relaxing under Felix’s hold. _Finally_ , he is surrendering, Felix thinks. Dimitri’s lashes flutter across his cheeks innocently and Felix hates what it does to him.

“Would you rather my bedroom, Felix?”

Tips of Felix’s ears begin to betray him at that, heating faintly. “No, boar. The people talk, they’ll babble about their precious princess.” He suggests strictly. Clearly, the boar doesn’t nudge at that, the mention of his honor before the eyes of his people. The bewilderment was written on Dimitri’s face, growing gently into a chuckle, making Felix more agitated. “What?” He chides, Felix’s fingers releasing the grip. 

“I’m sorry, Goddess. Why would we fret about that? Have you forgotten what the people say about me? I’ve heard plenty of terrible babbling.” Dimitri says, while his apology sounds sincere and his voice doesn’t edge in mockery, Dimitri holds his gaze and Felix doesn’t let it go as he considers the words. It’s not false, following the tragedy, everyone was merciless to Dimitri. Some of his people had fabricated rumors and shared them, like the one where they assume he had a hand in the Duscur incident, in order to be crowned. A traitor, they’ve called him, only a kid then, as if the burn scars burrowed into his skin were nothing. 

Felix had heard his share of parrots too. After all, he is merely Glenn’s imposter. 

Back then, Felix would tell them off, would rebuke them, and welcome them for a fight. _How dare they speak badly of the prince._ But life, as it seems, has a way of showing Felix wonders, and time, Felix has come to accept, was never on his side. 

Still, Felix supposed Dimitri kept his honor, clean, _perfect_. 

“And what’s so funny about that, _boar_?” 

“Oh Felix, it’s nothing… Simply your concern brings me some joy.” He says, all teeth and no bite, Felix grits his teeth at that. “Shu- shut up! It’s only to get rid of you.” 

“You just have to say it and I’ll be gone.” Dimitri speaks with complete seriousness, the gaze he sets on Felix is potent. Felix knows if he tries and says it, it’ll be that easy for Dimitri to be gone, _then why doesn't he say it?_

Felix shuts up, his lips drawing a thin line. Dimitri smiles at him, a damned smile. Dimitri’s arms wrap around the arch of his waist, bringing Felix down and begins burying him into the sheets with lazy kisses, hand traveling over his body, tracing the lines of Felix’s muscles. Not as gentle is his hold on Felix’s hair, letting the strands loose under his fingers. He tangles the dark hair especially delicately between the lethal gauntlets. He isn’t as careful about ruining the rest of Felix. 

Sometimes, Felix ponders over what would happen if the Duscur incident didn't occur. How would Felix be? 

How different would Dimitri be? 

Would they always be together, would Dimitri be happy, no ruling to worry about soon, would Dimitri love him? The kind Faerghus didn’t let them have from birth, assigned to engagements from a young age. Would they kiss as if there is nothing between them, not Felix’s pride nor Dimitri’s revenge? 

Would Felix be there to watch Dimitri get married to someone else, to have an heir, to complete his duty for his kingdom? 

Would Felix defeat Glenn to as much as his heart's content?

Strangely, Felix felt cold. Faerghus is awful to its people, and Felix would be just as miserable. 

That's how Felix finds himself in Dimitri's room, again, laying on his scented sheets. The boar opens him up with his fingers, while the left hand's fingers loll atop of Felix's tongue. 

He knows both of them are just trying to feel something. 

“You know, even my tongue is quite strong,” Dimitri says as he pulls his fingers away, wiping them across the bedding and yielding Felix's hips. He drapes Felix's knees upon his shoulders as if Felix is as limber as he'd like to be. 

“Is that an attempt at seducing me,” Felix grunts, shuddering between the sheets. Dimitri looks enticing, with training bruises coating his chest. Felix might've caused some of them. Dimitri, who shies from uncovering his body in the sauna, hardly taking off his claws, ashamed of his hand’s injuries, is bare with Felix. 

“It depends, is it working?” Dimitri whispers through hooded eyes. 

“You spent on my face you boar, I don’t assume it needs to-” his voice tapers off to a whine as Dimitri rolls two fingers inside of him. 

“S-so, can I put my mouth there,” he suggests politely, gulping.

"Disgusting," Felix mutters, while his body colors, darker than it already is. “Why… Isn’t this enough for you?” he asks. 

“It’s more than enough,” the prince drones as he leans close to Felix and kisses along his long neck. “But I still… you’re so beautiful there.” He resumes and grasps Felix’s thighs apart to peer at his hole, forcing a gasp out of Felix’s mouth. Felix feels the intense gaze of the boar on his hole and he almost kicks for Dimitri to carry on. Dimitri levels with his rear, he opens his mouth at the sight, and Felix is certain of the boar’s mouth watering in hunger. Before he knows it, a finger comes to circle on his rim and Felix squirms. 

“Animal.” Felix mewls, and Dimitri flashes a grin at him. 

“Come on, boar, come on.” Felix kicks his legs on Dimitri’s shoulders. The boar is fearful of hurting Felix since it’s their first time, Dimitri wants to take it slow. 

“Felix, please be patient, I don’t think we had enough preparation.”

_Felix will kill him._

Dimitri gets out of his small clothes, _finally_ , stroking his length with oil. He is as the boar put it in a refined way, quite above average. Felix thinks, politely, that he is huge compared to what he has seen in the changing room. He is in every way a boar. 

Sylvain, of course, teases him about it all the time. _“The ladies will swarm you, your highness,”_ he says and winks at Felix, earning himself a sweaty towel in his face. 

To be fair, the only reason Felix wants to be on the receiving end is for this challenge. 

Dimitri starts rubbing the head of his cock on Felix. “What are you waiting for, wild boar,” Felix growls, impatient and irritated now. The boar greets him with a nasty smirk, that Felix doesn’t perceive the meaning behind. “Do you want me to beg, boar? Is that what it is?” Felix can reach anywhere and find a blade to stab him. 

“No, Felix, it’s one word.” Dimitri’s smirk widens into a grin, while he twists a nipple under his fingers just to drive a moan from Felix. 

“Boar, don’t test my patience,” Felix warns him and oh, Felix realizes, the boar wants him to call him by his name. 

Given that Felix will explode if he doesn’t get what he needs, he surrenders easily. “Dim-” 

“Dimitri!” the name is whispered into the boar’s door, following faint knocks. 

Both of their eyes flutter wide. Dimitri’s palm instantly flings to cover Felix’s mouth, his face drawn with shock. 

“Are you in there?” the voice insists, while Dimitri strives to free himself from Felix’s grip who is clutching him until he gets what he asked for. 

“Professor, I- I didn’t expect you at this hour,” He explains, fixing Felix a glare, and using his strength to release himself. Felix returns the scowl with a bite at his hand, and Dimitri struggles not to squeak. 

“I overheard something, I’d like to discuss it with you.” The professor clarifies. 

“I’ll be right with you,” Dimitri says and leaves Felix to dress. Felix might look like he is about to burn the boar’s room, given that he can’t return to his bedroom. 

Felix watches as Dimitri tucks his groin to his pants and picks the rest of the clothes from the floor. He sweeps the glistening sweat on his brows with his sleeve, while his hair is still a mess, sticky at his forehead. Felix believes the real issue is that he is still hard in his breeches. 

Before Felix mouths anything, Dimitri seizes a long coat with a tiny belt circling it and he runs for the door. 

When Felix stirs in the middle of the night, the boar’s limbs are trapped in his. His eyebrows arch together sorely, his shirt is wet and he is holding onto Felix very firmly. 

“Wake up, you’re sweating heavily,” Felix murmurs while he rocks the boar’s body. 

Dimitri rouses, slowly as his eyes wander around the room to register where he is. “Forgive me,” he grumbles, half to him, half to the pillow.

“Another nightmare of yours?” Felix asks drowsily. Dimitri stays still, shivering at Felix’s side, seeming panicked.

“Look at me,” Felix repeats.

No reply.

“Boar.” That gets his attention. Dimitri shifts to his left, where Felix lays and stares peacefully. “Look at me,” Felix demands again, his hands crawling at Dimitri’s cheeks. Felix will later knife himself for this. 

Dimitri stares and stares until his lips find their way around Felix’s. 

And then, he falls to slow kisses, something neither of them had yet to explore together. It’s new territory, and everything new with Dimitri is scary. Felix’s heart is at his throat when Dimitri keeps kissing softly, so gentle.

So Tender, strange, and unlike everything they’ve ever been.

Like when they were kids.

Like what he always ached from Dimitri. 

It’s awkward, neither of them is accustomed to the other’s mouth like that, but Dimitri lets his lips move against Felix as he likes. Felix can’t secretly enjoy it when Dimitri swallows down his whines. 

They slip into a lazy rhythm, Dimitri’s fingers tarry between the dark long strands like Felix knew he liked. 

In the battle against the dark knight, the professor orders them to pair with adjutants. Felix knows it's for the best, they already have Flayn captive, they don't need the students to be separated. However, if Sylvain keeps suggesting silly games, like guessing if the mages are cute or not, Felix will have to cut him himself. 

Felix knows Sylvain isn't the worst fighter. Though he slacks on training, he is a noble more or less and the noble's training in the kingdom is precisely merciless. Sylvain wouldn't survive it if he wasn't trained to his bones. Besides, Sylvain has been spending time with Dimitri, the prince must've pushed him to practice more.

Though after his brother's death, Sylvain began killing ruthlessly. Before, he'd suggest a way around it, some technique to skip a slaughtering that will happen anyhow. It's either them or their enemies. 

What's worse is that Felix recognizes when Sylvain unsuspiciously throws himself to protect him, he had been doing that since they were kids. When no one was around but Sylvain, he would cover Felix's ears when they'd light fireworks across the sky. He remembers when Ingrid had a hunch once and said he felt the need to protect them because no one had protected him. Felix had lashed out at her for assuming irrational hypotheses, but it stuck with him. 

"Alright Felix, this area is clear, we need to move faster to catch up to the others if you want to have a turn with the dark knight," Sylvain says, as he turns back to mount his horse. 

"Let's just hurry," Felix rides behind Sylvain, and Sylvain speeds with his horse. 

It's Sylvain who sees the trap first, but he is far too late to pull the reins of his horse. He curses and tries to calm his mount when he hears the thunk of bows springing at his horse's legs. "Damn it, Sylvain!" Felix hisses and bounces above their mount. 

There are many archers near their sight. Felix had picked up some tricks from Ashe, but he can't kill them all off, though Sylvain can throw his spear around and get them an opening. 

"Buddy, I think we have guests." Sylvain alerts and Felix studies their surroundings, the mages circling them now. He doesn’t know how they’ll survive this. Then Sylvain steps in front of Felix, covering his form. 

"Come on, leave them to me, they're closer than the archers; I can kill them." 

"We're not separating, if we go the mages’ direction, we move together," Sylvain warns him, an unfamiliar tone in his voice.

There is no time for discussing a strategy, and even if Felix wants to yell at Sylvain, he just hisses, _fine._

It's fine really, until a mage burns Sylvain's last lance while defending Felix. "I told you not to protect me, you idiot. Damn it, Sylvain, just think of yourself for once!" It's no time for anger and poor combat, but Sylvain is fine, his burn should be easily healed. 

"So what, let the fire get to you? Felix, when will you learn to rely on others?" Sylvain says as he throws his ashed lance. 

"Will you let me protect you for once?" Felix blurts out, more furious when he spots another arrow thrown their way. Thankfully, he seizes it before it hits them. 

Suddenly, Sylvain grabs him to teleport into another room. "They'll just follow us," Felix complains. The corridors look the same as that room they were in before, someone must’ve made it with a puzzle in mind. He still speeds with Sylvain, they don’t have any other option anyway. He trusts Sylvain even if he plans recklessly, he is smart enough to get them out of trouble, he trusts him to protect his back if anything were to happen. "Then, we better hide and wait for reinforcements," Sylvain quickly retorts. It's hard to find a lurking spot when they're not in the forest. Sylvain proposes finding a wall and waiting for aid. 

"I think I see Ingrid's pegasus, I'll go wave for her," Sylvain whispers, and Felix gives him an alright sign. 

Felix stands alert, waiting for Sylvain and Ingrid, yet Sylvain doesn't come back. 

Felix strolls carefully, glued to the sides of the walls, so gingerly he doesn't notice when a sword drills through his right arm.

"Gotcha, kid," he hears the bandit at his back say. Felix’s instincts are sharp enough for him to grab a dagger and stab the bandit's neck to the wall. Thankfully, he falls dead before Felix’s eyes and Felix wrenches the blade back to his pants. It’s good he attacked Felix, he is always prepared for cowards like him. He is only relieved it’s not Sylvain. 

"Pathetic," Felix murmurs and continues walking. 

Felix's head spins and spins, and he only assumes it's from blood loss, but it's something more he realizes when he collapses to the ground against the wall. His teeth sink into his lips as the unbearable pain spreads within his body. 

"Felix!" He hears Sylvain's voice and hopes he isn't imagining it. He attempts at following the voice, tries to open his eyes wide but his lids drop heavy on his eyes. His hand wants to reach for his head, to calm the hammering ache but it’s hulking so is his breath.

"Oh Goodness, Felix." he hears another voice join, seemingly Ingrid's but deeper and drifting; Felix just wants to cling to it.

, “I can’t- I can’t feel my arm,” he slurs the words heavily.

"Saints, he's bleeding." Sylvain is panicking at his side, Felix can still sense the fanning of his breath over his face while Ingrid calms him down. Sylvain’s arm hugs his back, Felix wants to bring him closer, wants Sylvain to take a look at his right arm and assure him it’s alright. Except, he only feels two fingers pressed under his neck and at his heartbeat. "It's not the time for panicking," Ingirid says. Sylvain brings him to his back and carries him. "Sylvain, you're shaking,"

"How can I not!"

"Come on, let's fly to Mercedes." He hears Ingirid say and Felix feels his eyes succumbing to his body’s demand, he has to stay awake. 

The first thing Felix senses is the fragrance of herbs. He immediately recognizes it as the infirmary, then his head starts to pound with memories and pain. 

"Saints," he groans before forcing his eyes open, he feels like crap. 

He is promptly met with Mercedes, lolling over him, with a serene smile. "Oh, you're awake, I thought you were talking in your sleep again." 

Felix swallows around his dry throat, he doesn't taste pain except for his head. Without delay, he glances instantly at his right arm, and it's there. 

His arm is wrapped tightly and there. 

"Felix, how are you feeling, tell me," Mercedes asks, still standing with her shadow over him. She doesn’t look worried, if anything she is calm which relaxes in response. He still has a terrible headache and his body feels stunned.

"I- my head feels like exploding but other than that... I feel numb." he struggles with his answer, voice rougher than regular. 

"Oh, that must be the herbs I let you drink, it's good for your injury and the poison, but has some minor side effects," She explains, and strokes her hand against his forehead, possibly to check his temperature. 

_So the blade carried poison too._ Felix starts to relive what happened, he was barely conscious yet he recalls some parts before he passed out. Mercedes healing him, Sylvain carrying him, and Dimitri. 

“Is Flayn alright?” He asks. He hates how his voice edges with concern, but he needs to know that no one but him was harmed, it will ease him better and his wound would weigh less the burden.

“Everyone is fine, Felix, you don’t need to worry.” She assures him while adjusting his pillows for him to lean upon them. 

Once he sits up straight, his eyes cast upon the figure lying on an armed chair, covered with a blanket, likely by Mercedes. “What’s he doing here?” Felix is quick to question. 

“Oh, he insisted on staying, I could hardly kick out the rest of our classmates, but I couldn’t refuse Dimitri. The professor said it’s better for what happened with Flayn, stay safe than sorry, right Felix?” She says, gazing at Dimitri and back at Felix with a small smile. He likes her company, her voice is as calming as the scent of herbs, and Felix can only bitterly mutter a reply, “Pfft, I don’t need protection.”

“Sure you don’t, that’s why he fell asleep,” She says and rests on a chair next to him. “He got truly worried, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him get like this before. He almost yelled at professor Manuela and Byleth, you two have a special bond.” She states, warmly.

“As if I care,” Felix says flatly. He can remember his face before he passed out, he mostly remembers the glassy bright eyes that followed him to his dreams. The panic that tensed above his cheeks and into the lines of his forehead, he recalls yells and orders thrown around with anger. 

"Well, that's not what you were saying in your sleep," She smiles, her tone teasing on the matter and Felix can't believe this. What could he possibly say? He doesn’t recall any embarrassing dream, but he does remember Dimitri’s face floating, reassuring him he’ll be alright. She gives him a knowing look and Felix still doesn’t understand her cues. "What do you mean, what did I babble about?" Felix panics, but she just keeps smiling at him, like he is some sort of fool. 

“Well, can I retreat to my room now?” He tries to move before he receives permission, and it _hurts_. Mercedes reaches to stop him, but his stubbornness gets him first. Mercedes gives him a disapproving look.

“I’d prefer it if you stayed in the infirmary today. If you feel so uncomfortable you can call the servants to help you to your dorm,” Mercedes says as Felix grimaces in pain for his attempt. She is right, he should stay here if he wants to get up for battles earlier. He won’t allow missions to pass without him, he has to compile.

“Fine,” he hisses.

It takes much convincing for Mercedes to head to her room, but she accepts at last, and Felix is left alone with the boar’s snoring face. 

Felix stares at his injury, and feels like crying. He’d rather die than lose his arm, what good would he be without it? The thought stirs his stomach. He is pitiful, how could he not see the enemy? Maybe the professor was right about assigning a battalion to him, if it was _Glenn_ ; he wouldn’t let this happen. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” The boar suddenly whispers, his voice rugged with sleep.

“Boar, what are you doing here,” Felix mutters, his gaze falling upon the boar. Dimitri scrubs his eyes, and has a look of disappointment, possibly since he fell asleep and left Felix alone, _since he is so sacrificing_ , Felix, deems. 

“How are you feeling?” Dimitri asks carefully. His eyes hold pity as they rake over him and Felix despises it. When Felix doesn’t answer, Dimitri hums, “We were all worried, and Rodrigue has arrived too, he was very upset,” Dimitri says. 

“Excellent, too bad he can’t tell me I was injured like a true knight since you weren’t there.” Felix remarks, awaiting a glare or scolding but Dimitri only chuckles and sniffles as his features rest to smile warmly. Suddenly, it dawns on Felix, the boar has been crying before he fell asleep. Felix knows that red swelling on his eyes and tear-streaked cheeks better than anyone. 

“You’re looking at me funny, is there something on my face?” Felix says, suspicious. 

“Nothing, I’m just glad you’re in the mood for humor.”

Maybe it’s the herbs Mercedes has given him, ‘you might feel dizzy or drugged’, she said, but Felix wants nothing more than to kiss the prince. Never has he looked so pretty, and stupid Felix might be smiling silly. He considers throwing another joke when he is reminded through his haze of catching Alois teaching ‘Dimitri the art of jokes’. Felix remembers Dimitri’s sarcastic comebacks from when they were young, and he can’t deny how funny it was to watch as people comprehend his jokes with that earnest tone of his. 

“Why don’t you tell us some jokes, I've heard you’ve been practicing.” Yes, Felix is definitely drugged, he figures when Dimitri giggles again and Felix doesn’t tear his eyes from him.

“Felix, I’m glad you’re feeling better, I- I,” Dimitri falls silent, nibbling at his lip. 

“You aren’t going to get rid of me so soon,” Felix cuts in drowsily. If Felix could do one thing right, it was knowing what the prince wanted to hear. If Felix is in pain, he knows Dimitri won’t rest until he realizes that everything is alright.

Dimitri smiles again at him. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” At his age, Glenn had died, and perhaps that’s why Dimitri looks so concerned, not because he cares about Felix. Slowly, he feels his defense rising, the relentlessness that will forever keep him apart from what he truly wants, to believe that Dimitri wants to be by his side

“I’m not throwing my life away for you, I don’t want to die for foolish ideals,” Felix warns before he shifts and waits to drift to sleep. 

He forgets to say he’d wanted to die for Dimitri to protect him, his loved one, not the prince, not to be plastered as the loyal knight. He is only ever loyal to his love. 

Soon enough, Felix is back on his feet, his crest has improved his healing rapidly, not to mention the special care they’ve been giving him. Everyone had been visiting him and even _Dedue_ brought some soup. Then when he asks Manuela for permission to return to his room, she allows it and Dimitri offers his help, keen for Felix moving back 

They lay together for the first time in a while, and Felix tells him hesitantly that he can return to his room, but when Dimitri asks him if he wants him gone, Felix falls quiet. 

Dimitri trails kisses on his arm, at the tucked wound, He kisses over and over as though it will remove the pain. Between Felix and himself, he'd like to think it does and that's why he lets him carry on, not because he craves those lips on him or because Dimitri's touch reminds him of how alive he is. _Just this once_ , he tells himself over and over, deceiving, meanwhile, his mind betrays him when it asks for this forever. If he truly wants Dimitri gone he can simply ask; else the boar won’t relent.

"Will you stop already?" He mutters grimly, faking annoyance and he knows Dimitri sees through him and his lies. He halts regardless. 

"Felix, you should be more careful on the battlefield please, your hands... they are..." embarrassment burns on his face as if they did not just sleep together. _Precious,_ Felix catches the word in his eyes. Dimitri didn’t let a day go by where he hasn’t expressed his concern, it’d be annoying if he didn’t just gaze at Felix with such kindness. 

"They're what?" Felix demands, challenging. Dimitri knows he'll lose his tongue if he says anything softhearted. Dimitri trips on the silence, not wishing to fight with Felix today. "We should sleep," Felix says, quenching the smoldering fire on their sides. The moonlight slips through the window, tender on Dimitri’s features. It's beautiful, he'll admit that. 

Dimitri asks, hesitant as always, "Can I?" before his bare hand reaches deliberately around Felix’s waist. It's harmless, with Dimitri he forgets the panic that arose in the house when they had seen the damage to his arm. If Felix wasn't careful enough, and if he wasn't as alert he would've lost it. 

He doesn't want to lose his arm, he knows nothing but swinging swords. He’d be good for nothing, a sorry excuse for a man, worse: _he wouldn't be able to protect Dimitri._

When he arises, the warmth next to him is familiar. Felix is growing used to having Dimitri in the mornings and in his bedsheets. 

He can get used to this, he thinks. 

He can get used to the breathing at his nape, lazy and warm. Dimitri seems like he is sleeping well, different from when they started this. Felix is calling it ‘this’ as if avoiding defining it would solve anything and put his mind at ease. 

He tries to quiet his breath to not awaken the boar next to him. He can take in as much as he craves from him when he is asleep, he can secretly drink in the blonde strands falling on his face, the soft lips he knows the taste of, not blood, or what a beast like him should taste like. 

In these mornings, Felix convinces himself that Dimitri captivated him. He is under some spell, given that Dimitri still tastes like the first time they ever kissed. He still smells like the first time he held him against his body, still feels like a star, and someday, Felix will have to accept that Dimitri still feels the same because this is his Dimitri, he has never changed, still him, with his warmth and tenderness.

The beast and Dimitri look so much alike, behave too similarly for Felix not to love them both the same. 

Is Felix softening as they resume with this? He doesn't want to dismiss his anger and his grudge against the boar, but right in his arms, Felix's pride breaks. The hatred withers as Dimitri slowly stirs awake, rubs at his eyes, and steals his hands away from Felix. He attempts to not make a sound. 

How do they always end up here? Why does Dimitri keep appearing at his door when Felix is full of heartbreaking words and violence? _This is the last time_ , Felix promises himself. This is the last time he lets him in his door. 

While he drowns more and more in his thoughts, there is an abrupt knock on his door. 

"Where is his highness?" He hears a voice from the hall asking. Dimitri isn't in his room and something is going on.

Naturally, he pushes Dimitri to the ground. Dimitri grunts, "F-Felix!" 

"Get up, they're searching for you." He says pointedly. 

"I’ve heard," Dimitri's voice is deeper in the mornings, but not lust deep. Felix likes the sound of it, he remains until morning like this just to hear it. Sometimes, Dimitri doesn't say anything and just walks back to his room. Felix of course, prefers it more, he lies to himself. 

"You shouldn't shove me, your hand will hurt." The grimace isn't aimed at him, it seems, it's the knocking on the rooms this morning. Felix is fond of the thoughtfulness towards his hand, he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. It should be an emergency for them to come fetch the boar. "There is something wrong, no time for carefulness." Felix indicates flatly. 

The sun has kindled through the room, he hopes the wood under Dimitri isn't cold. Dimitri slurs something that Felix doesn’t catch, observing at his broad shoulders. Felix hopes Dimitri goes out before he commits a crime in his pride's honor. 

The boar does, leaving Felix alone. 

Felix dresses slowly, he should rest but he must know what the current reports are. He was told he isn't going to come with the others to their next assignment. But if it’s serious, he will force the professor to take him. 

Felix hears Sylvain’s voice through the walls of Dimitri's room and he ignores the image of Dimitri changing his clothes in front of Sylvain. There is Sylvain's laugh, and it's followed by Dimitri's polite one. 

He hastens to breakfast and notices everyone is panicked. What is it this time, who else is kidnapped?

Annette greets Felix and sits next to him, she offers to bring him his meal but he refuses. "How is your hand?" she seems to know what’s happening, yet she says nothing of it. If it’s to not worry him, it’s not working. Maybe someone is truly kidnapped. He studies her face and doesn’t wait long. 

"What's with everyone today?" He cuts to it, watching Anette's face drop, and her brows glower. He rarely sees such an expression on Annette’s face, she is ever the cheerful, even with the darkest news. She always finds a way to ease it. She heaves a sigh, "There is a village, Remire village. It's under attack and many villagers are in danger. The archbishop sent knights and investigators this morning." She says mournfully. Her plate is yet to be touched, it’s upsetting and they must do something about it. The situation must be worse than she is explaining and Felix wants to spring there and fight, to save the people there and maybe redeem his mistake in the last battle; He’ll prove himself again.

"Are we going?" Felix asks. 

Anette glares at him, "You, mister will be going nowhere. However, we... I think we will. The professor owes the village, I’ve heard." 

He heeds a glimpse of Dimitri and Sylvain, Dimitri looks upset as Sylvain keeps muttering some gibberish next to him. He glances back at Annette who is shoving food into her mouth. "I just think," she swallows when she doesn’t apprehend her words. "I just think we should move soon if the rumors are true, I don’t want to think of what might befall the villagers." Felix nods in response.

Ingrid sits across from Annette, placing her plate hastily. "Have you heard..." she says more to the girl next to him than to Felix. She appears just as troubled, her eyes land miserable on her plate, and Felix wonders if the reports have been speared earlier than today and no one told him. 

Anette grumbles sorrowfully, "Yeah, it's terrible." and so far Felix is the only one who took a spoon from his tray. Both girls discuss the case there and Felix quietens, carefully listening for more information, it’s a strange case. 

Until Sylvain invites himself on the spot next to Felix, it's sweet when he offers to feed Felix but Felix has to kick at his feet. "Hey! Trying to help." Ingrid attempts not to laugh at him.

He catches Dimitri's strides coming closer and his heart starts hammering sheepishly. "Your highness!" Anette invites as she points at the empty spot next to Ingrid. Dimitri, welcomes her call with a smile, and places the tray on the table.

"I can't believe they're not sending us with the investigators, that's truly unacceptable, I'll ask the professor if we could do anything." he starts. Everyone’s gaze is set upon him, his face is glazing with something more than distress, _anger_ , Felix thinks. Someone needs to be the brains and tell him off, he seconds. "You have to know what you're fighting first," Felix argues, and Ingrid nods, agreeing. 

Dimitri is quiet, his fork fiddling with the food in front of him. He seems to consider Felix’s words, taking them without glancing at him. There is something wrong, Felix knows from the tightening grip around the boar’s spoon, the deepening crease between his brows and it’s not just the horrible village state. 

"Your highness, you should eat," Felix side-eyes the voice, it's Dedue. He puts a glass of water next to the boar prince. He is standing when he squeezes a hand on Dimitri's shoulder, "Don't worry yourself, we will save them, your highness." He assures. It’s the warmest Felix had seen Dedue’s eyes. His voice is grounding when it needs to be and it appears like a private moment for the rest of them to witness.

Dimitri glances up at him, a small smile on his lips. "We will." 

Dimitri seems to take the sight of the village as the boar would, his sanity at its edge. 

What if the beast has returned? Maybe, the beast never left. The beast who kissed him goodbye and printed his touch all over Felix, nights ago, who whispered against his ear softly, and whatever Felix has been trying to forget so desperately as the sun rose. 

The boar with his painfully beautiful face, licking up at blood. 

Dimitri orders them to slaughter everyone, in the wickedest ways. Felix doesn’t know if he is clinging to the past or present when he asks Byleth of a request. "You’d nearly beg not to be on the same unit as Dimitri, what transpired?" The professor quirks an eyebrow at Felix, and Felix only glares death at them. He demands to be the boar's adjacent and Byleth wouldn't accept, saying this battle is too risky to depend on teamwork, after ordering him over and over alongside Dimitri for 'bonding' as they said. Felix, retaliates for refusing the one time Felix requires to be next to the prince.

"I'm the only one who can handle the boar, a massacre would occur if I don't keep him within my sight." He reasons assuredly, demanding a credible counter, arms in front of his chest like an old lady. 

"I will be following him, you don't have to worry," the professor says simply and turns around to speed onward, leaving Felix behind. Felix frowns, "Wait!" But Byleth ignores him. 

The professor indicated at his right arm injury and Felix grunted in response. Sure he isn't as capable as ever, but Dimitri resembles a mad man that won't rest unless the blood of the invaders spills before Fhirdiad castle like a river. His eyes are scarlet, his voice is ages old, the same way it was during the rebellion. Felix realizes he hasn't witnessed the worst of Dimitri that day, he only saw a fraction of the beast. 

Maybe today, he'll finally lose the last glimmer of faith he had been holding to, and Felix can be free after it. 

Perhaps Felix is the most foolish out of his friends, how could he believe that the boar between his sheets wouldn't put on the perfect prince mask? It harbors revenge and bloodlust just the same. 

Felix watches the boar from afar, the scene so familiar he can taste the same stink of that rebellion as if it was yesterday. Maybe the professor was right when they didn't allow Felix to accompany the boar. Felix would’ve put an end to the boar, would cut him down to avoid another slaughter. 

The boar isn't as murderous as ever, he makes certain of those who he hits, although his eyes are shooting red. Felix doesn't remember them this way, red circles among the almost black pupils, he remarkably remembers the boar's demonic grin as he eyes the corpses under his feet.

The professor had proposed to focus on his faith in this battle, they didn't want him to rush working on his right arm. Regardless, he was itching to strike. The boar disappears between the flames and out of Felix's sight, and he rises to assist Mercedes with villagers. 

Within time, Mercedes is needed on the battleground again, so the duty of healing villagers falls on Felix and it's a mess. Felix's hands are rough, not suited for gentle touches the way Mercedes's are. He doesn't understand why Byleth decides it's an excellent strategy for him to be in charge of anything but combat. 

He succeeds even with his aloof form, an old lady holds his hands between her palms, blessing him, and it makes Felix's face crimson. It's strange, he muses, instead of soldiers’ last gasps, he hears thanks and gratitude. 

When Mercedes returns to them, she asks him to survey the village to seek more survivors. Felix complies and merges near the battle, and he chances upon Ashe who points to him where he can find the victims. He explains the current state of their army and the villagers, It seems a hard battle and Felix is partially glad he has started on his faith lessons before. They can save people, _he_ can protect them.

"Be careful, it's hard to discern between the mad ones." Ashe voices with agony, and Felix nods. 

He marches through the area, walking on remains and ashes when he spots a body twitching its fingers. Felix approaches it warily, stooping beside it to make certain if it's still breathing. He flinches at the sight of the burned face, no apparent features and the lively fingers cease twitching. Felix wishes they were sent faster than this.

Before Felix gets to his feet again, he senses something hostile advancing towards him. Felix stills, the rattles are closer now, and Felix pretends to examine the burned body again, his left hand is on his sword ready to strike the enemy down as soon as they show themselves. 

He is ready to kill when he turns his head toward the enemy. The figure is disguised but Felix sees his fist crumble around a dagger. Instantly, he detects a din of a weapon swing before the body slumps to the dirt. Felix ambushes for the attacker in case it's an enemy troop. 

"Felix, are you alright?" he hears a deep voice, hard to recognize, coming from behind the still-standing trees, "Felix?" the voice repeats. 

_The boar._

Felix bustles to the dead body now, it was the boar's lance that cut through him and into his heart, so precise it scares Felix. To Felix’s horror, it was a villager. "Boar!" Felix hails, voice strained with rage, "it's a villager, you animal!". 

"Oh," the boar lets out. He reveals himself, and Felix flies to his side to grab the boar by his collar. His body stiffens at the sudden impact, his eyes are wide on the boar. He is angry, disturbed and mostly, disappointed.

"Are you killing innocents now that you can't find enough enemies to feed you blood?” The boar’s face floats a dismayed look, mouth open and eyebrows pinched. 

"Felix, he was about to knife you." The boar whispers, his voice almost normal. Felix wants to yell at him to shut up, they came here to save and protect with their weapons, with their skills and yet the boar ruins it. Everything has been on the verge of collapsing so why did the boar push for the brink to fall. 

Felix shakes his collar with an iron hold, "I can handle myself, beast. You killed a villager," Felix snaps at his face and the boar flinches in his grip. _Good_ , Felix thinks. 

"His eyes were white, he was out of his mind," The boar breaths, freezing in his place and holding Felix’s gaze for him to believe the boar. He could easily remove Felix, instead, he waits for him to be done. Felix glances back and forth between the boar and the corpse to decide.

When tears his hand off the boar to check the villager’s face, true to his words, the villager looks possessed by demons. Felix spares another glance at the boar’s face. “So are you, yet you stay alive.” he murmurs venom to the boar and leaves.

It doesn’t matter if Felix kisses the boar or spits in his face before a battle, the outcome is ever the same. 

The ride back to the Monastery is in disarray, they treat some villagers and carry them on some spare horses. The boar has ordered to save as many as they could, it's their duty, he said.

After Felix leads some villagers to settle in the carrier's mounts, he hurries to the front force, calmer than the tail units where Sylvain, Ashe, and Annette are chatting with the villagers. He reconsiders this when he is on the same formation as the boar. Felix can't even bear a glance at him, the boar of the rebellion was the same as this one. 

They, however, pace close to each other, and the boar is silent, unmistakably raged. His eyes are still red with fury and bloodthirst, he doesn't chuckle as he did in the rebellion. Instead, his eyes are glued to their route. 

Felix's tongue is keen to spit something, to call him the animal he was in the battle just now, to tell him he will never serve him. Felix will abandon his title and leave at once, he tells himself, and the words spill when he is at arm's length from the beast. He doesn’t know why he speaks to him anymore, is it that he wants to hurt him or because he needs it to believe what has come of the boar prince. Does he want to remind the boar or himself that he is a monster

"You've shown your true colors, at last." He doesn't retort, nor acknowledge Felix with a mere glance, it pisses Felix off. “You hug me, kiss me and make me feel like you’re a human, when--when you’re nothing but this, a horrifying beast wearing his clothes.” _Dimitri’s clothes._

But the prince stays mute, his gauntlets unyielding around his horse’s reins. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Felix’s eyes honed at the boar, irked, swelled with regret for giving the boar a chance, for allowing him anywhere near himself when the boar was a mere beast. 

“For nothing, for nothing.” Felix parrots, to outrage a reaction out of the boar prince. 

“It’s beyond me, Felix.” The boar tardily seethes. He stalls the pace of his horse to match that of Felix’s. “I want to help the villagers, I want to grant them much, and if you don’t desire to follow me in the future I will understand that Felix,” He says and his gaze flickers to his horse as anger glides to Felix’s throat. He bends Dimitri’s words to exactly whatever he hates to hear the most, if Felix wants to leave him, he’ll do just that. 

“I don’t need your permission for that.” Felix grimaces. He notices how the boar’s body slumps slightly when Felix speaks, he looks deep in thought and Felix wishes for once, Dimitri wouldn’t muse over every sentence and the weight of it. Dimitri hums in return, “I deserve your loathing, Felix.” A bitter smile twists at Dimitri’s lips. “I tried to bury it down but the truth comes out at last.” He carries on grimly, tone darkening. “You can celebrate that,” Dimitri says and it only gapes the hollow in his chest. Felix nudges his horse ahead in silence and runs to the Monastery. 

Part of Felix wished Dimitri had made up an excuse for Felix to stay, part of him was relieved he wouldn't regret when they arrived at the castle and he accepted Hanneman’s recruitment. 

“I heard there is a quarrel between you love birds,” Sylvain begins playfully with a smug smile smothering his face.

"Sylvain, don't be stupid or I swear to Sothis I'll cut off your tongue," Felix seethes angry, thumbing at his heart to quiet the hammering of it. 

"What? Don't act like you don’t know! It's always been like that after all, both of you on the same boat while me and Ingrid watch and wonder when you will realize it." If Sylvain could be this smart about his personal problems and not get in other people's, maybe then Felix wouldn't kick at his leg with might. "It's been our thing, all of us putting on a great performance, masking our emotions as good as we aimed." Sylvain starts. "We are Crest gifted people, after all. We can be as skilled as we let ourselves be." 

Ingrid joins them at Sylvain’s side, shaking her head dismissively. How the nobles have grown up, truly. They all grew up to be what they detested the most. 

“Come on, tell me what happened, I could help both of you. You need to rely on me with this kind of stuff you know, it’s what I’m best at.” Sylvain flashes him a clever grin. Guilt crawls over Felix’s gut, Sylvain will be mad with him as soon as he spills the news. It ought to happen and there is no better time than now. 

“There will be no use for that," Felix, says assuredly. 

Sylvain laughs tensely, "What do you mean?" 

"I'm leaving the blue lions," he says flatly. The laugh he gets is higher, more nervous. Ingrid sighs, putting a hand on Sylvain's shoulder and squeezing it tightly. Sylvain shakes her hand away, the previous amusement in his eyes molds into an ambivalent look, hurt and confusion all at once. A look that’s wrong on his features. 

"What does that mean Felix, are you- is that because of us, because of Dimitri?" Sylvain’s voice never cracks, not even the day he killed his brother, but now it sounds on the verge of it. 

Felix avoids glancing at him, taking his sword in one hand and strolling away. Ingrid catches his arm, "You owe that to him, you know."

"I don't. I don't owe him anything." He grimaces.

"He will blame himself, he will think he lost you to that day too," Sylvain says pitifully and if the boar heard him now, he'd be outraged. 

"He did." 

Ingrid murmurs something and Felix doesn’t catch it, but he presumes what it could be and tastes the blood racing through him. They always fight, he and Ingrid, at each other's throats all the time. "Speak it louder," He retorts. 

"Ok guys, let's not do this, can’t you just come today Felix? Say your farewell to the old crew." Sylvain offers, his eyes are encouraging, maybe in the hope of his other classmates to convince Felix to revert from leaving. The boar has told him to do as he pleases, Sylvain is a fool for thinking it would impact any of his decisions.

"I'm not saying anything to him. We're in the same academy. Nothing will be different, I just won't have to see his evil face." Ingrid makes a face at Felix’s words, Felix ignores it for anything's sake. 

"He'll be devastated, it's one thing to call us names, we're used to it Felix... but leaving, that will sting." Sylvain laments. “You know if you don’t love him, just tell him, you don’t have to change houses to break it off.” 

“Sylvain!” Ingrid chides, and Felix feels red flare across his cheeks when he shuns from the accusations.

“I’m just saying! Though he loves him so I don’t get it.” Sylvain huffs.

“Shut up!” Felix says hurriedly. “That’s enough, I’ve been patient with you and yet you never stop getting on my nerves.” He spits. “I don’t care for him or anyone that supports his actions and the stupid kingdom of ours, I hope you rethink where you stand and leave instead of blindingly following him.” 

“Alright! I’m sorry if I offended you, that wasn’t my intention. Just because we don’t want to leave his highness....” Sylvain apologies and stands to leave with Ingrid. Felix grumbles while Ingrid hardens her glare. 

Ingrid stands in her place, her shoulders hunched in defeat. One glance at her and Felix understands, there are unspoken words on the tip of her tongue. He expects her to at least respect his choice.

“What!” Felix growls, _did he miss something?_

“I know you’re only trying to protect him Felix, but could you be just a little understanding-” 

And before she carries on, he cuts her off, “Understanding of what?” 

“My goodness, Felix have you not paid attention,” Ingrid speaks with a tinge of fatigue.

“To what correctly, be precise.” 

“Sylvain _cares_ for his highness.” She answers quietly as if it’s common knowledge.

Felix stares at her, mouth parting unwillingly and closing up. _This must be a joke._ Though Ingrid looks as honest as always, he clears his voice, “Sylvain only cares for himself.” 

“Saints Felix, you can’t be truly blind.” Her face seems yielding hopelessly, tired of him. 

Only his mind appears to deliberate over one thing, “D-does the boar know?” 

“His highness is as blind as you.” 

Felix laughs, eerie and mad, Ingrid only shows pity in her eyes, “Why?” he balks. 

When, how, and most importantly, _why_. 

Felix was always there, Felix was there, still, he never noticed. Sylvain _talked_ , said he knew Felix felt for the beast and yet, uttered nothing. Rightfully so, Felix rarely told them anything. Yet they seemed time and again to know what Felix did not. 

Only with this new knowledge, many memories fall into place. Perhaps Felix is the biggest fool of Fodlan.

Yet, here he is, banging on Sylvain’s door and shouting his name, but no one answers, so he opens the door to find it empty. 

He speeds to the courtyard, and his sight instantly lands on the redhead, oddly alone resting on the green, carding his fingers between the calm red locks. “Sylvain!” He calls and Sylvain waves at him casually. 

“Why,” he echoes when he strides toward him, “Why?” 

“Felix, I said I’m sorry,” Except Felix pounces on him. “Felix!” Sylvain exclaims, and Felix holds his body unyieldingly to halt his movement. Felix is angry and he can’t understand why. Is he angry with him because Dimitri is a beast- undeserving of his care, or because- 

Because nothing hinders Sylvain to do so. 

“How can you not hate him, _how?_ ” Felix snarls, facing Sylvain’s gaped mouth. He is startled, rightfully so. Felix shouldn’t be furious with others like this, he is being unfair. 

“His highness?” Sylvain questions softly. 

“The boar prince,” Felix corrects him. 

“How can I hate him, when he is such an angel,” Sylvain says coyly, a broken smile dooms his face. Felix raises his fist to Sylvain’s face, but Sylvain seizes it before it hits him with unforgivable force, the kind Sylvain hates to use.

“He is a monster!” Felix snaps, attempting to break his fist free.

“Someone has to believe in his humanity to stop the monster,” Sylvain says, serious and composed. 

“The whole nation believes in him, idiot!” Felix grits. 

“They believe in the prince of Faerghus, in the crest of Blaiddyd, not Dimitri.” 

“How nauseating, I thought you out of all people would have some sense, turns out you’re just as idiotic as I thought you were,” Felix says, finally loosening his grip and Sylvain lets him go. “All because you want to court him, you never change,” Felix says, ridiculing, while Sylvain’s eyes widen. 

“Yet, he still only has eyes for you, and for that, I’m not mourning your leave as much as I’d like,” Sylvain says, eyes showing the weight of his words. Felix pretends as if his heart doesn’t skip a beat at ‘only _has eyes for you.’_ and he can’t help but wonder more, _why_. 

Felix’s hands curl around his pants. “Then why do you _still_ want to stay you fool!” 

“I can be whoever his highness wants me to be, it doesn’t matter.” Sylvain winks effortlessly as if his future, present, and everything isn’t on the line for the boar. “He is the kindest soul that ought to rule a nation, and I’m going to be forced to marry some noblewoman to have an heir anyway, it doesn’t matter who he wants, to me at least. I just want to be useful for once, see him smiling you know?” He says it without a blink, Felix can’t grasp why Dimitri kept on seeking Felix’s cruel soul instead of this. He imagines Sylvain explaining to Ingrid the same way he is doing now. She must’ve said that it’s indecent, he is the _prince_. Yet, Felix can’t grasp why Dimitri kept on seeking Felix’s cruel soul instead of this

To answer Sylvain, Felix doesn’t know. 

When Felix heads to sleep that day, he ponders over the silly words. _He is the kindest soul that ought to rule a nation._

They keep him up, tossing, and turning when they play in his head. 

The black eagles are nice, nice enough not to get in Felix's business and let him be. Dorothea however, is an annoyance for Felix. She is nice, he admits, but she is a pest. 

He likes Bernadetta the best, and therefore, he sits next to her in class, or better no one. She panics every time he approaches her, and Felix might start to think she doesn't like his company very much. 

Even though he left the blue lions, Annette still studies with him, and Ingrid doesn't refuse a match. He always makes certain to go to his room before the boar, not wanting to stumble across him. 

A month passes with a certain degree of peace, with the ball just right at the end of it, everyone is festive and Felix is alone and at peace again.


	5. Chapter 5

The lights are flashing, Felix can barely recognize where the blue lions are. He stands next to tall, dark Hubert and waits for the night to end. 

They watch as the leaders of the houses dance through partners. Dimitri is thrown from one lady to another, an unsavory sight, while Claude leads the professor through the dance floor. 

Felix remembers Dimitri nagging about balls and dances when they were kids, yet here he is faking a charming smile and putting on that pleasant appearance of a prince. 

Every noblewoman is offered a dance, the music is louder than Felix’s thoughts and Felix forgets about the prince for a moment.

Suddenly, there is a hand on his shoulder, cautious and polite. “Felix, dance with me?” Dimitri asks. Close and under the lights, the exhaustion is clear in his smile and his not so appealing weary eyes.

Felix frowns, “Surely not.”

“Of course,” he nods and turns on his heels to stand back next to Dedue. As Dedue leans down to whisper something in his ear, Sylvain joins the figures, wrapping an arm around the beast’s shoulder, and then his hand glides down to the clawed palm. 

_Oh, Sylvain knows how to woo a prince._

Sylvain brings the gauntlet to his lips, a sweet smile on them while gazing at the prince like he is some lady. Felix can’t hear the startling sound Dimitri makes, but he witnesses his mouth part. 

Sylvain leads them, as Dimitri finally musters up a smile again, and they dance. Eyes fall on them, they’re both good when they swing on the melody. Naturally, Sylvain’s hand is on the prince’s waist and the other holds him close, closer, _it’s strange._

Dorothea’s voice tears his eyes away from them. “Felix? Are you angry, I can’t honestly separate your glaring from your natural expression.” 

“I’m _fine_.” he asserts. 

“Come on, you seem so uptight, why don’t you take a sip of this.” She says while offering a clay vessel, filled with some wine he assumes. 

“You shouldn’t be drinking that.” 

“Just try it, pleaseee.” She pouts and pushes the vessel to his chest. 

“No, leave me. You’re like a child.” 

“Alright, if you tell me why you are more irritating than usual.” Dorothea twirls her hair when she asks, faking puppy eyes on him as if they’ll work.

“If I’m bothering you, please have the joy of parting from my side.” 

“Very well then, I’ll send Caspar your way.” She smiles innocently. 

“ _Fine_ , I’ll take one sip.” 

So he does, but one sip turns to another as his eyes follow the prince. He swallows as the bittersweet memories of the three boys crowd his head, the urge to weep unbearable as he downs more of the drink. Sylvain swings with Dimitri like they’re courting, not the way they would practice in Felix’s room, young kids only imitating what they observe in balls. Dimitri titters when he bows to ask if Felix would dance with him, Felix takes his hand and chides Dimitri at the form of his bow and Sylvain’s burst of giggles still rings in his head.

He and Dorothea take turns with the drink until the ball’s noise grows too heavy on his head and he takes his leave, shoving the wine to Dorothea. 

He flees the loud party hall and heads for some place soothing for his headache, a place he can gather himself in and no one will drag him to dance with some girls. 

The Goddess tower isn't somewhere he'd like to be seen in but it's the closest to peacefulness. He takes the stairs alarmed, he might find someone to invite for training. After all, he is way more willing to swing his sword than to swing a lady. 

Felix hopes he doesn't catch some brats kissing or confessing their feelings here, it was common in the academy after all, especially with Sylvain. Felix believes he must've invited several women here as one of his courtings habits. However, tonight Sylvain is busy with the ball, dancing is a different easy courting method. He wonders if the boar had fallen for one of them or if that's how Sylvain had offered him some favors. 

Suddenly, Felix hears heavy steps breaking his train of thought. They were well-known as Felix listens to them every night, pacing around, almost at the front of his door. 

He disregards them as his eyes stay fixed on the view under the tower, it reminds him of Fhirdiad and old friends. 

"You're here." 

He doesn't look back at him when he mutters, "I'm here." 

"I was looking to have a match with you," Dimitri proposes. “Are you waiting for someone?” he resumes, uncertain. 

"No, besides, what are you doing here? Shouldn't the boar prince be dancing with a nice lady?" it's calm as he doesn't spit the words, but he makes sure he doesn't articulate his curiosity.

"Felix, you know I don't have time to think about these matters." He speaks weakly as he leans on the window's rails. Felix purses his lips, then Dimitri speaks again, shooting Felix a knowing look. "Additionally, my heart lies with someone else." His lips draw a hopeless smile and it catches Felix off guard, he can't help how his lips part slightly. 

There between them hangs unspoken words and the forwardness of Dimitri's brutal and plain words. 

It can't be Sylvain because he would be beside him instead. 

"Felix... I ought to ask you this." Dimitri eyes zeroed on the window, some students are running up with the cool wind, escaping the ball, the night is long and Felix feels the liquor in his system. He waits for Dimitri as he sorts out his words, "What will you do? After we graduate," _after I'm crowned_ , Felix hears the posed question. He wants to avoid it, turn the subject to something that truly matters; Maybe because Felix himself, didn’t give it a thought just yet. He has forged his life in a way that fits the kingdom until he turned fifteen, it’s hard to picture it something else. 

"What do you think?" Felix answers simply. 

"I don't think of anything, that's why I'm asking." He heaves a sigh and pauses to hesitate, then he says, "I know you won't be by my side, that much I can figure out." 

"Then, what are you asking? If I'll be there swearing an oath to you with the rest," Felix grimaces. 

"Because I want to know, it pains me not knowing where you are," he answers truthfully and Felix wishes the hurt look on his face doesn't let his heart sink for a second, 

"I have to think about it yet," Felix says, all so sullen.

"Then, would it be foolish of me, to wish for that here?" Dimitri gazes at him fully, eyes hopeful under the darkness that surrounds as the blonde threads fly to hide his azure eyes, to cover what Felix loves and loathes the most about Dimitri. 

Felix had forgotten where they were standing. Dimitri was alluding to the legend of the Goddess Tower, that if you make a pledge, it will be fulfilled, it's childish and he knows Dimitri doesn't believe in legends. 

The mere notion that Dimitri will make a pledge, ask from the Goddess for Felix to stay, jabs at his heart. "Very foolish, but that's what you've always been. What a disappointment, even you should know to search for love and romance somewhere else." Felix crosses his arms against his chest. 

Dimitri hums, "Legends are legends, nothing more, but it won't hurt to wish for you to fight by my side. After all, we know nothing but blades and blood." He says, taking in a deep breath. "There are certain things that I must accomplish, even if it means risking my life. I may not even have a future to promise to someone." His eyes meet Felix's, and they don't glow as they used to when they were younger, they're only gloomier. 

'If we know nothing but clashing swords, then how come I cared for you my whole life?' Felix aches to say, but how pointless; Felix cared for the beast when he hated him no less than when he thought the world of him and the results were all the same.

"Shut up," Felix scowls, afraid of the liquor compelling him to speak. 

"Then would you allow me, if I hoped for us to have a dance someday, when you forgive me perhaps, maybe the Goddess will hear such a wish," He suggests and it's unfair of the moon to shine gentle on the sadness upon Dimitri’s face, not when Felix isn't in his right mind. 

"Who says I'd want to meet you again?" he spits, and Dimitri still yields him a knowing smile, tucking a strand behind his ears, and his eyes say it all, what both of them won't: _we're bound; our fate is tied, of course, we'll meet again._

"Get out of my sight, boar." 

Felix lingers at the top of the tower after Dimitri takes his leave. it’s lonely and for the first time, Felix despises it. He is lucky when he detects gentle treads on the stairs, climbing them gradually, Felix hopes it’s not some romancer waiting for his fate to be sealed here. 

Felix can’t recognize the figure from where they stand, on the last step of the stairs. When it walks toward him, Felix distinguishes the orange curls under the moonlight, they’re unusually loose on Annette’s shoulders. He sees her sweet smile when she reaches him. Her eyes carry such a warmth, Felix can’t ask her to leave him alone and retreat to her room. Although his head pounds heavily, he can’t refuse Annette’s company, not when she has been bearing him for long.

“Felix, aren’t you cold?” she asks, concern washing over her beautiful face and Felix shakes his head forcefully. Still, she tries again, places her hand on his shoulder, “Did something happen? Dorothea said she couldn’t find you anywhere, said you dran-” She shuts her mouth for revealing too much knowledge Dorothea had given. 

“I’m fine.” Felix answers flatly, but she doesn’t shy away from where she stands close to him. 

“Felix, you always get this way when you argue with someone you care for,” Annette says. With the most considerate voice she musters, “I saw his highness coming this way.” 

At the mention of his name, Felix frowns, and Annette catches the sight of it. “What’s the matter, Felix? You can always tell me you know.” 

“I’m tired of his princely act, I’m- I hate how selfless he can be,” Felix surrenders easily, hates the way his voice quivers against his will, hates the way his mouth doesn’t _shut._ He doesn’t protest against it, the booze takes over him _,_ “he’ll die before ever demanding one thing for himself, he’ll die just like Glenn and I- I’ll be the one left with his ghost, chasing me. He’ll die before he’ll ever let me hate him the way I wish I did.” Felix’s voice cracks along the tears streaming across his cheeks, humiliation washes over him when he hears his words echo in his ears. 

“Oh, Felix,” Annette says sympathetically. The hand that rested on his shoulder inches to his neck, warm and gentle, Annette cradles her fingers around his nape and Felix doesn’t reject it when she brings him in for a hug. Her face is bleary among the tears, he buries his head on her shoulder, his arms come to hug her waist, different from Dimitri’s, even the warmth of their bodies don’t match. Felix clings to it nevertheless. 

“I’ll learn a spell that washes away the pains of heart and I- I will heal you, Felix, I’ll heal his highness too,” She whispers to Felix, and he tugs at her waist tighter, the tears not stopping. 

Days go by, then weeks, and Felix’s rising suspicions of the black eagles only grows strong, but he can't decide whether he'll oppose his new house if his information is correct. 

Would this path differ from following an aimless blood-lusting beast? 

Felix is hypocritical when he tails the beast at night, as drowsy as Felix is, he wants to watch the boar train. He has woken Felix up and he owes it to Felix to let him study the boar's new skill. They haven't clashed swords ever since.

The moonlight is lenient on the winged golden hair, brilliant and yet so calm. Felix wonders how many nights the boar had stayed training, he knew no rest. Despite that, his form was as perfect as ever. 

“Why are you awake at this time, boar,” Felix speaks with no bite to it. He takes firm steps to the training yard, the heat of Dimitri's gaze following him, appearing stunned at the sudden interruption of his practice. "Well, don't stop on my behalf." Felix remarks and Dimitri's lips thin at the line. 

"What are you doing here, Felix." He says calmly, contrary to the intense gaze of his eyes. 

It's an unreasonable hour to train, but Felix couldn't let the noise go when the steady steps outside of their dorm's hallway stirred him from his sleep. "It's been a long time since we dueled, maybe we can have a match since both of us can't sleep," Felix says, offering his empty hand for Dimitri to toss a weapon at his direction. 

Dimitri holds a sword in his hand and balks. "Felix, it's rather late." he excuses.

"So? Are you afraid the professor would lecture us?" Felix scorns.

Dimitri frowns at his answer. "You should sleep," He repeats, though he throws a weapon for Felix to grab it, and he catches it in a practiced grip. 

"Come on, I want to see if your skills improved." Dimitri wears a faint smile at the words and waits for Felix to join him. Closer, the prince looks exhausted, the darkness under his eyes pronounced like no other day, and Felix almost gets concerned. 

Dimitri backs his feet, anticipating for Felix to jump on his neck with the edge of his blade. Felix doesn't leave him to wait longer, the swing of his sword is as sharp as it is in the daylight, and whilst he knows the ugly truth of the boar, he can't deny the thrilling manner of their weapons grinding with each other, steel seething and palms shaking with sweat.

The boar and Felix's shadows dance with each attack and advance. Dimitri performs not like a tired man would, he moves with purpose, and given that the boar's stamina is undefeatable, he only parries the blows leveled at him, throws his leg back, and doesn't advance, letting Felix have an easy win. 

The yield that drives the boar to his knees is easy, predictable. Felix lands it on the grip of Dimitri's lance, a twist of his ankle on Dimitri's and the beast is slumping on the rough ground. 

"Boar," Felix pants mercilessly, and circles the zone around Dimitri. Pain wraps the boar's face at the impact of the drop, he groans and gives up the grasp on his spear. "You're as heedless as ever, you hardly struck at me." Felix questions, a scowl picks on his brows. "Come on, let's go again," he breaths out, desperate for one more fight, Dimitri is the only one who can keep up with his sword, but Dimitri shakes his head beneath him. He doesn’t look like the boar nor the friend he knew in his childhood, he looks like that of a ghost. He stares at Dimitri, and realizes: he misses the false smiles. 

"That's enough," He states, gentle with his rugged voice.

"You can't even land a hit on me, pathetic." Felix retorts, gazing down at the blue hazy eyes. "We're opponents now, we shouldn't reveal our skills outside of battle, correct?" the boar rubs at his head as if it pains the way his words do. "Those are words of a rookie, not the king to be, boar." He grimaces. There hasn’t been a time when Dimitri didn’t wish to fight, even at his worst and in the capital, when he’s been in despair, he’d do what he’d learned best: Train. 

Dimitri carries on carefully, Felix can see him tensing up, eyes darting away from Felix. "Do you still loath me greatly so, Felix?" Dimitri stares at the night sky now. “Would you side with Glenn’s killer rather than me?” Felix stares at him dumbly, mouth agape, and anger welling up his chest before he even finds the might to speak.

There is a long pause, along with Dimitri hauling himself from the ground. Felix is still, he doesn't move as he watches Dimitri drape his abandoned lance back amongst the weapons carelessly. 

“If you have new knowledge about Duscur, I suggest apprising my old man,” Felix grumbles, but Dimitri shakes his head. Which worries Felix more, Dimitri wouldn’t just invoke Glenn’s memory. There is something terribly wrong with how he words it, Felix only stares and studies him.

“It’s mere speculation, I just- I never took your harsh words to heart, I’ve always heard worse however now…” He trails, and keeps on, "But it puts me at ease, knowing you are cutting a path for your own, something I stole away from Glenn." he looks down at his gauntleted hands, as though he truly stole. "You've always deserved that, Felix." 

"Quit spewing idiotic words like that." He snaps at him. 

"Besides, I can't ask you to stay and seek revenge with me." He meets Felix’s eyes, the darkness curls around him, and the breeze caresses his cheeks, catching on his blue cloak to fly.

“You’re going to lead everyone to death, blinded beast,” Felix’s words leave his mouth furiously. Although, they only chase the beast as he has turned his back to him before.

********

Felix was prepared to act startled when Edelgard announced her play-school act, and he can't help but agree with some of her beliefs. He hears of the boar's madness, as everyone talks about it; no one says Felix had warned them because they won't listen to him. 

He wants to forge his own path now, where Foldan isn't drowned in battles, or filled with corruption. Where he isn't following everyone like a blind puppy.

They have the chance to choose where to lay their loyalty, Edelgard asks, and Felix hurries to pack his belongings, he'll never have this chance again. 

He has been clinging with hope to the boar, with wishful thoughts that he might've changed, confronted himself, or whatever Felix has been waiting for. 

Felix knows that Fodlan will collapse faster than a battle, and so he only carries as many swords as he can bring. 

Before he knows it, his room is empty; only flooded with memories of the boar. 

"Oh," he suddenly hears and spins ready for a fight. Sylvain stands there, face dropped and eyes roving around the room. "You're joining her?" 

"What else does it look like." Felix answers and his hand still ghosts over the sheath of his sword, prepared. 

"Fe..." Sylvain lets out as if he is deceived, and there isn't time for debate, so Felix pushes through him. "Dimitri is out fighting, won't you wait for him at least?" 

"And tell him what? That I'm betraying you all? He’d cut me here," Felix snaps. Sylvain is foolish for even considering that, and Felix knows if he so much as glimpses the prince, he'll hesitate again. 

"Take care, Felix," Sylvain says, more composed than before, and Felix wants to drag him with. “Sylvain, come with us,” Felix hurriedly demands.

“I can't, Felix. I can't leave my territory or his highness.” 

“Yes, you can, idiot, that's precisely what I'm doing.” He continues, “for a country without crests, Sylvain.” 

“Such a place can never exist,” Sylvain argues. 

“It’s deserving of a bid,” Felix insists. He shouldn’t be kind, he tells himself; He won’t listen anyhow.

“Dimitri is worthy of a bid when he rises to be the king.” Sylvain counters, affirming in his fashion. 

Felix shakes his head, “you’re a coward, he only seeks revenge and you know it, a bid is better than wherever that beast will lead you to, you’ll go and defend this kingdom that offered us nothing but misery. You'll realize it, it's not too late to,” His eyes lower to the ground, “I’ll be waiting for you, all of you…” He says and makes his way to his path.

When the emperor commands them to stay in the Blaiddyd regions with Cornelia, Felix curses her, under his breath. 

They tell him he is more familiar with that land, he can help the troops. _As if Cornelia hasn't been scheming on this for months._ Yet, he is obedient, every day is a battle against the royal knights. The kingdom knights are the type to fight to the death for their king, every last one of them, and so there is nearly no rest for them. 

He and Dorothea share a room there, since most of the house's ladies have returned to the empire, and that girl, _Edelgard_ , needed a trusted soldier in Cornelia's region who was Dorothea. 

Felix, honest to Goodness, feels bad for her, he hardly sympathizes with people but Felix allows her to stay with him. She trusts him for some reason, whereas he gnarls words of venom, she just overlooks them. 

Some days she is assigned to different parts of the province, takes longer than him on the battlefield and Felix waits for her patiently in their room. She always has the news while Felix is still looked at as a spy. 

Every day when he hears the simple three taps on the door, he says, "Come in." 

"You know, you need to be nicer than this when welcoming me, I barely hear a good word from the army.” 

She is in a bad mood, he can finally sense it when she is, awfully clueless as he was. She prattles about how awful soldiers are and how lady Edelgard should show them their place when they address Dorothea. 

"If someone is bothering you, just tell me." He mutters from his end. 

"Aw, Felix! You're so sweet sometimes." She smiles beautifully. _What did I say,_ he thinks, meanwhile the blush of her compliment still inches to his cheeks. 

She sits beside her desk opposite of Felix, her back tense against the chair as she takes off her earrings.

"Are you upset?" He asks flatly, but there is something wrong, he knows. 

She jerks her hand from her other ear, "Is it too plain?" She asks, heaving a sigh and resting her head on her wrist. Felix moves to her side, curious now. 

"I have bad news," She declares and glances up at Felix, "Rufus has been assassinated," She says, uneasy. She licks her lips, shifting on the chair, has it been the Empire’s work? If so, why does Dorothea think Felix would be upset with that. Was she the one to assassinate him? He rakes a hand through his hair as he muses.

"So I have heard," Felix says, Those weren’t new news, every soul had heard the rumors and it was very likely true, he wasn’t so likable. He doesn't perceive the nervous looks she shoots him with, "What? No one liked him anyway, he was a mere womanizer and despicable." he says pointedly but it doesn't seem to ease Dorothea. 

"I know," She whispers. "They have imputed it on D-Dimitri." She gulps down and chews at her cheeks, despite when Felix denies it, he values the prince still the same and she knows it. 

His mouth parts open at the words, head shaking, "nonsense, they framed him, he could never betray him, even when he deserves it." he races the words out of his mouth as sweat beads gather above his brows. 

Still, Dorothea seems troubled, on the edge of her seat, even after she delivered the recent ridiculous news. "Well?" Felix urges her, it's clear there is something else. "They say, his uncle was involved in Duscur, t-that's why," she fumbles for words, and Felix falls confused at it. He has heard of Dimitri going mad, insane even when he learned who the flame emperor is. Dimitri is a beast, but he isn’t a fool to be tricked into obvious political traps.

"Nonsense," he repeats. 

"She has him imprisoned, Dimitri is-" She watches as Felix's face drops, eyes wide and hands-on his sheath, "Please don't do anything stupid Felix," she nearly pleads. How could he not when the boar is falsely accused. He is feeling stupid, but Dorothea’s gaze is reluctant and Felix doesn’t want to scare her off just yet.

"Go on," he hisses sharply. 

"He is sentenced to death." She says, her eyes averting the red ones of Felix. “He is slated for execution,” she explains as if Felix didn’t understand her. 

Before her eyes, Felix is flying to the door, has picked a sword and propelled to the hallway. Dorothea panics and runs to lock the door. "Felix! Don't be crazy." He doesn't answer, moving to shove her. "I'll use magic," she threatens, hands clutching on the door's handle. 

"I'll simply kill her," He seethes, and Dorothea fixes him a glare. "That will solve nothing, idiot! You'll only be branded as another traitor," she breathes wearily, "Goddess, didn't you leave because you wanted nothing to do with him?" 

He shifts back at the words, his face upset, he drops the sword to the ground and tosses himself to his bed. Dorothea groans, "Felix!" 

"No, you're right." He says and turns his back to her. She takes another deep breath before she sits down again on her chair. The room falls quiet and every time Dorothea flicks her eyes to where Felix nestles, his gaze is glued to the wall. 

"I don't care what happens to him." Felix abruptly utters, "I only don't want for my brother's blood to go in vain." Dorothea doesn't say anything, in case the swordsman wanted to maintain his train of thought. Felix is never one to speak. "What am I talking about," he heaves a sigh, "it did a long time ago." He pulls the covers over him and murmurs, "I'm sleeping." Dorothea hums in return.

He wonders if his old man had caught a whiff of the news, perhaps not yet. What of Dedue? Or Sylvain? What will happen to the blue lions when they hear about it, will they too feel their heart drop, or does a murderous whim overflow them like in Felix? 

"I only told you because I have a proposal," Dorothea speaks out of blue, and to the void. "I knew you'd react this way, and I- I can ask for the prison guard to let you in, to meet him, or even have the key to the cell he is in. We can- we can pave an escape for-"

"No," Felix snaps. 

"Felix, hear me out." she chides, in that manner a mother would do to a child. 

"I said no, did you listen?" He repeats, harsher. 

"If you're scared that something would happen to me, don't be," she says pointedly, " I can take care of myself." 

"Sh-shut up, that's not the reason," He says, calmer now. "Aren't you and her..." He trails, meaning Edelgard, and turns to Dorothea to meet her eyes. "involved?" he continues. 

“That’s why no one would suspect me, Felix. I want to help, wouldn’t you do the same for me?” She says, sweetly and convincing. 

“No.” 

She pins him with a glare and scowls, stating, “Well, I’m not the same as you. I don’t think he deserves death even when my loyalty lies absolutely with Edie.” He huffs aloud, and faces the wall again, to escape her gaze. 

“I just, don’t think you’d forgive yourself if you had the chance to save him, don’t you think?” She says, cautiously knowing it would piss him off. Although she is right, and maybe the weight of betraying Dimitri, for fleeing with the black eagles is what makes him reconsider and agree. Maybe it’s the notion of Dimitri dead flipping in his stomach is what forces him to clutch on the hope Dorothea is offering. Felix stays strong on his beliefs of the kingdom and ideals, but part of him can’t help but want to ask for forgiveness from Dimitri, no less. He’d forgive himself, that’s easy but would the boar do? When he told him he is free to leave the blue lions, did he mean it?

“You know nothing.” he grimaces. 

“Of course I don’t! You tell me nothing.” She answers, and he glowers to himself. 

They don’t speak of anything else, and he hears the rustle of her clothes, as she changes and settles herself on the bed. He truly doesn’t understand why she puts her trust in him, they are barely friends and yet she chooses him to share a room with.

Dorothea is easy on the eyes, and if Sylvain was around in these circumstances, he’d wink at him furiously, showing him he is jealous. He can hear Sylvain’s voice chime in his head. 

If Felix was honest, he doesn’t resent Dorothea’s company. However, she doesn’t need to know that. She at least doesn’t snore, despite how Felix presumably does, she isn’t messy, talkative maybe, but better than other companions. 

After all, Felix senses the heat of observant eyes on him whenever he isn’t nearby her. He was the boar’s sworn shield and sword, _friend_ , doubts arise and fall, rightfully so. He listens to the maids’ whispers around, gossip, they babble about a certain curse, ‘casted on Felix’, “This is a curse, the curse of Blaiddyd” they say, and spot Felix catching them prattle. His intimidating presence shuts them, but the inside of Felix knows the rest of the curse, ‘to blindly love a Blaiddyd.’

If he obliges Dorothea, if he listens to her reason, he’d fit the title they throw around for him. 

When he rises in the morning, Dorothea isn’t waiting for him for breakfast, as usual. _So she is upset with him._ He is only trying to protect her, even if the boar deserved an escape, Dorothea doesn’t deserve punishment on his behalf. 

They don’t have a mission for today, perhaps because they caught the lone commander of the blue lions, or perhaps there are more significant assignments for the army today. 

He doesn’t see Dorothea until he is training for hours on the ground. She walks with some knight, chattering and giggling, and when she spots him, she turns on her heels in the other direction. The knights accompanying her follow. If she's trying to escape, it’s a failed attempt since Felix doesn’t get the clue. “You, come here.” he calls.

She puffs at the voice, still, she pats the knight’s shoulder for him to take his leave, and unlike Felix, he takes the hint. “What do you want, Felix?” She says, walking towards the training yard. 

“Why do you want to do it,” he asks, unprompted but she doesn’t seem caught off guard. 

“I don’t know Felix, he was just… endearing, the nicest noble I’ve met, he appeared like a good person.” she plays with her hair, nervous and distracting. 

“Nonsense,” he grumbles.

“Fine, I overheard Cornelia order that she will make him pay for what his father earned, are you satisfied now?” 

“And you didn’t consider mentioning this earlier?” Dorothea glares at him in return. Felix wanted to curse, that madwoman was truly wicked. He doesn’t have it in him to be mad at Dorothea, he’d likely act foolishly if she said more that night. However, Cornelia would deserve it.

“If I recall correctly, you were the one who asked me to shut up,” She rebukes, a knot forming between her brows. 

“If I agree to this, do you have any sort of plan?” He speaks haltingly, but a grin graces her face and she clears her throat confidently, “I thought you might never ask.” 

Dorothea explains to him her plan, as if she had been preparing for it awhile, she has a map of the underground prison, and Felix doesn't question how she came to possess it when she shows him. Felix doesn't understand why she is so willing to offer him this favor, will she ask for something in return? 

She will, reasonably, and he would nevertheless go through with this, because when he thinks of the prince in a dark cell, surrounded with his ghosts, Felix thinks of his Dimitri, not the brute boar. 

And he had promised his Dimitri, he won't die when there is no one besides him, they'll die together. The cold savage slaughtering won't get to him before Felix does. That's what he promised night after night when Dimitri wouldn't fall back to sleep since the nightmares began haunting him. If hell drags Dimitri down its flames, Felix will be with him, he told him. 

Dimitri will die, just not here, and Felix may not be by his side, but someone else would. 

Cornelia finally proclaims her imprisoning the guilty prince, and it results in rebellions, loyal knights attacking their regions. The news of the lord of Fraldarius requesting to see the prince flutter around the country, but Cornelia is quick to reject his visit. Everyone says he is raging with anger and only Felix knows how his father would welcome brutal news calmly.

Felix grounds himself with the plan when Cornelia declares his execution, word for word as Dorothea informed him 

Dorothea isn't like the lazy nobles that don't have a grasp on reality or waits for her knight in armor like novels tell her to, Felix discovers. Every time he doubts her, she proves him wrong, reminding him of a certain old friend. Felix would mock Ingrid but thinks that she would come up with a better strategy than his.

He doesn't quarrel with Dorothea on the day they decide to go ahead with the plan, and Felix trusts her, the way she does when they sleep in the same room. 

He asks her every day the reason she is helping him, and every time she has a different answer or she simply avoids the question. He doesn't even understand _his_ reasons, so he doesn't press on the matter further. 

The night ahead of implementing their plan, he hears sobs reaching from his room, odd when he hasn't seen Dorothea cry before. He knocks patiently on the door and listens as the weeping ceases. She doesn't call for him to enter but he opens the door hesitantly.

If it was anyone else, his tolerance would desist, he'd order them to gather themselves, this is war, but when his eyes land on the songstress's figure his heart tugs in his chest at the sight. Her body covered with layers, alone her face is exposed, puffed and flowed with tears. He doesn't utter a word as he puts down his gear. 

When he used to weep alone in his chambers, Glenn or his old man would sit next to him, stroking his untucked hair. Despite how Glenn would tease him for his childlike behavior, he'd smother him with kisses over his head when Felix pretends to be asleep. 

So, he steps over to Dorothea's side, slowly not to alarm her, though she moves herself to the side of the bed, giving him space close to her. He sits, the sheets warm and damp with tears. She is still staring at the wall beside her, miserably. 

"Dorothea," He whispers, and her tears drop faster at the name. "Is this regarding tomorrow?" He asks as delicately as he can. He watches her squeeze her eyes shut. 

His fingers attempt to reach for her hair, only to settle next to the pillow. He doesn't even know how to comfort her, sitting next to her won't soothe her down, maybe going over the plan again would. 

The instant he stands up, Dorothea's hand is on his, holding his palm down. She sits him down again, closer to her when she adjusts her back against the headboard of her bed. Her eyes are finally on him, swollen and red, evident of how long she has been crying. 

"We don't have to... you know, it's alright if you can't do this." he offers softly. He doesn't think he has caught himself being _this_ kind towards anyone. 

"What would you grant me if we survived tomorrow?" She blubbers. Her eyes are bleary, still, holding his gaze with a strange look as if Felix should know what she is asking for. What could possibly raise Dorothea’s interest, what does Felix have for her?

Felix, confused, answers quietly, "Whatever you want, an advantage in battle? part of the house of Fraldarius?" He suggests though she only cries harder. 

"Just a h-hug." She stammers between sobs, leaving Felix's eyes to soften, he nods his head to accept.. His hand reaches again for her strands, only this time, he caresses them. In these cruel times, he doesn’t want to be crude with her.

"A hug it is." He seals the deal and Dorothea tardily smiles. 

In the morning, they break Dimitri out. 

In the morning, Felix discovers that Dorothea had arranged something for the guard who delivers the food to the death-sentenced prisoners, except Dimitri because as the guard informed her, they don’t feed him. Felix’s blood boils when he hears.

Dorothea refuses to discuss with Felix what happened to the guard, and they’re too occupied to stray on the matter. She tosses him the guards’ attire and instructs him about his role, as he’ll be taking the cook’s food. 

He tells her they’ll fail, everyone knows him in the kingdom, and she tells him they’ll walk by each other’s side, he’ll duck behind her. 

They do as she says, and no one recognizes him under the commoners’ clothes. Dorothea is nervous at his side, and he can only be so calm as they enter the prison. 

He watches as Dorothea greets the guards. A few weeks ago, she would recite her opera stories about the black eagles to Felix, but he didn’t realize how great of an actress she is until now. She assures Felix that everything is advancing alright, even when he senses her trembling hand on his shirt, she still affirms that her spells are sufficient to rescue them if anything went wrong. 

Their steps are quicker when they approach the cells, Felix doesn’t ponder over the state Dimitri might be in. _Crazy_ , he thinks. Dimitri must’ve gone mad. 

There is another long staircase, and Felix focuses solely on the hurried footfalls they take. No one questions them as long as Dorothea is with him. If anything happens to her following today, he’ll hunt the prince down. 

They placed the boar in a special cell, the guard informs her, yet there aren't more than two keepers around his hall, so they can take them out easily. ‘ _We’ll blame it on his highness’s escape.’_ Dorothea says. 

When they see a glimpse of the rumored cell, Felix hears his heart pounding in his ears, almost bursting. He has the urge to ask Dorothea again, _why?_

 _“_ Alright, it’s your performance time, try not to shine, Felix,” Dorothea says. 

The guard questions who sent her. ‘They don’t provide this prisoner any meals,’ he insists, pleased with his orders. ‘His crime is unforgivable,’ and Felix is so close to drawing his sword. 

Dorothea makes up a perfect lie that Felix is too busy seeking a peep for any sign of Dimitri to hear. Meanwhile, the guard won’t let them in. “It’s his last days,” Felix says composedly to him. 

“That devil of a prince can starve to death for all I care.”

Felix unsheathed his sword as the words drip from the guard’s mouth, wielding a clean cut at his neck, smoothly. It’s an instinct, the same when he heard they had Dimitri captive, bound to his heart. 

He sees Dorothea’s horrified face at the corner of his eyes, but they have to go on, so he grabs her wrist and they run to the end of the hallway where there is a corner cell, dim light and air faint around them. When they reach it, his eyes are quick to cast on the blonde hair, so unusually messy, dirty, and ruined. The boar’s figure is limp against a wall, head hunched back. Cornelia was true to her words when she said she’d make him suffer. He looks terrible, unlike the prince he once knew, his fingers are scratching against the wall. Felix grows wistful as he watches the boar lament, he wants to offer his hand for him. 

“Boar…” Felix breathes and Dimitri glances his way, hollow.

“We have to hurry, come on Felix,” Dorothea says, and he stumbles on his feet, swallowing at the lump in his throat. 

Felix brings the key Dorothea lends him, his fingers frustrated. He discerns another figure shifting, _Dedue._

_He wasn’t alone._

“Felix,” The boar murmurs, “Oh, Felix.” 

“Shut him up,” Felix snaps at Dedue, and he earns himself a worthy glare.

“Did you come to say goodbye?” The boar suggests, almost taunting. Felix doesn’t blame him, he has ever been cruel to the prince, hasn’t he? It’s only natural Dimitri would think this of him. His silent swells while he works on the lock, he knows better than to argue you with him.

“We are here to get you out,” Dorothea explains, wary of Felix’s answer. 

The boar laughs in return. As Felix unlocks the chains around the door, he shares a look with Dedue, who nods, understanding. 

“Come on, boar, let’s get you out.” He cracks the door open, meanwhile, Dorothea keeps an eye out for anyone. 

Dimitri stands in his cell, in disbelief that Felix has unlocked it. “Your highness, we should get going,” Dedue remarks, and for once Felix is grateful for his company to the boar. 

Dimitri eyes skeptically at Dorothea, and then at Felix. Eventually, he steps outside his cell and moves, Dedue and Felix following him. Their steps are careful and hushed, Felix trusts that they’ve been imagining such a moment, going through possible escape plans over and over, else the boar won’t be so considerate. Felix glances at him, his eyes linger at the back of the boar’s head, he looks like he hasn't washed in ages. The longer Felix stares at him, the more he wants to bring him back to life, the more he wishes their strides don’t end. 

When they reach Dorothea, she holds onto Felix’s wrist. “This is it for us,” She looks ruefully. 

“What do you mean,” Felix demands, voice deep with soreness. 

“Felix we can’t be seen with him, we can’t risk it, _you_ can’t risk it.” He gazes at the boar who awaits them when they stop abruptly. 

“Just- I can’t, I need to be certain, he makes it. They don’t even have weapons on them.” Felix falters, the way he would when he was a child back in his house.

“Felix,” Dorothea repeats, begging. 

He glances back at the boar and his fingers clench around the hilt of his sword, clutching roughly as he walks to the boar’s side. 

He takes his nape in his hand, bringing Dimitri’s head as close as possible to his, “Listen to me, boar.” He whispers hurriedly as he observes the detached look on Dimitri’s face, “Dimitri, listen to me,” more urgent, eyes desperately on his soulless ones. “Up there, on the stairs, you kill every man of arms, they’re merciless, tell me you understand, promise me you’ll do that. Prove me right just this once about who you truly are, a monster.” 

“Won’t you come with us? With me?” The question leaves him dumbfounded. He stares at Dimitri’s blank eyes, _they don’t have time for this._

“Felix?” as he flickers a glimpse of tenderness, how he wishes he could caress the fallen blonde hair and nod, but the reality is different.

“Promise me to win this war before I have to fight you in battle,” he whispers for Dimitri’s ears only.

 _I don’t want to be the one who kills you, boar._

He wants to thread his fingers against his, tell him to not leave him like Glenn did, _‘don’t let me grieve another goodbye’_ is on his tongue but even the hint of the boar not surviving has his hand stiffening. The boar stays still, a dull gaze traps Felix’s.

“Here,” Felix pries a dagger beneath his pants, “I can’t give you my sword,” He slips the dagger between Dimitri’s bare fingers and Felix raises an eyebrow to their state, rough and more scarred. 

When Dimitri pulls his grip away, Felix tugs at his wrist again, dragging him back to face Felix. “Wait,” Felix says. 

“Felix!” Dorothea snarks. Felix doesn’t stop, yanking his gloves, and shoving them in the boar’s palms. “They’ll be shredded before I’m out,” Dimitri remarks, roughness glazing his voice. 

“You’ll be astounded at how long they can carry you,” Felix says, and he hopes his voice isn’t as shaky as he feels. The boar nods and Felix vigorously shakes off the hand at his wrist. 

He watches them run, the boar following Dedue, as Dedue lures anyone dangerous, protecting Dimitri. Meanwhile, Dorothea squeezes at his arm as they both take heavy breaths: they’re traitors. 

No one detects them when they return to the dining hall, but they notice that Dorothea’s face is streaked with tears. 

The next day Cornelia announces the boar’s death. 

The day after Felix leaves for Adrestia.


	6. Chapter 6

The never-ending war marks its fourth year, the kingdom is collapsing, its king to be an undiscovered corpse. The lasting territories are so few they would surrender soon, and Felix should be celebrating, he is on the triumphant side. Felix heads numerous battles, fighting against his kingdom instead of shielding his territory. 

Instead, he is grieving; he pledged to himself he won’t mourn over Dimitri for the third time. Yet, he does so effortlessly, and this time his father doesn't dry his tears away, nor does Felix cry. Part of Felix is grateful there isn't a body to prove Dimitri's death, he couldn't explain to anyone why he would visit the prince's grave regularly. 

Or why would he dig through the grave to be certain. 

Dimitri would want to be buried next to his father, or Glenn, but no one, not Cornelia, would do the courtesy to fulfill his last wish.

Felix has been fearful of forgetting Dimitri's face the same way he forgot that of Glenn's. Felix perhaps loathed him, but he couldn't allow himself to forget his first friend, his favorite shade of blue, his, his, Felix's. 

He only hopes Dimitri is finally free.

If Felix knows anything of Dimitri, he would be free. 

When the soldiers report to him, they think they caught an enemy, Felix doesn’t expect it to be him. He was idiotic, but _this_? 

Felix swears underneath his breath when his eyes land on the calm red hair, _Sylvain._

As much of a fool Sylvain acted, he was intelligent. He was the smartest of the blue lions, to Felix at least. His tactics never failed, the plans he would propose humorously were always what they ended up deciding on. 

Seeing him here, knees bent in front of one of Felix's army, chin lifted against the tip of the sword and a dumb smile on his face, made Felix’s chest clench in hot anger as he approached them. They are going to kill him. They must recognize him and he'll have to watch them slaughter the future Margrave of Gautier in front of Felix's eyes. 

"What's going on, is this the man you caught?" He calls on, pleased with his steady voice. They all set their gazes on Felix, but he only meets Sylvain's wide eyes. 

_Don't speak of a thing, idiot._

"We found him with three men of force." One of the troops indicates where the three tied men stood. 

"Take them inside, I'll take care of this one," Felix commands as he unsheathes his sword. He has earned the empire’s trust through the past years, so no one dares to doubt him, even when Sylvain's stupid smile betrays the play. 

They follow through with the order and when their voices grow softer, when it's only him and the redhead left, he reaches behind Sylvain to his attached wrists and unfastens the hard knots. The silence between them breaks only when Sylvain heaves a sigh, "It's been a long time, Felix." Despite Felix's concentration on the ropes, he can hear the grin in Sylvain's voice.

Felix doesn't speak a word until he frees Sylvain. "Thank you, buddy," Sylvain hushes, and Felix slaps his palm at Sylvain's white cheeks. 

"What the hell are you doing here? Sylvain, what on the earth were you thinking when you stepped onto empire land?" he snarls, his sweat drops falling unnoticed. Sylvain’s gaze holds his eyes again, a serious look finally taking its place on him. _Serves him right._

He can't shake how rare it is on Sylvain's face. 

"I'm looking for him," He pauses, "We are searching for his highness." Soft and easy, as if that excuses why he fell in his men’s trap. 

"Here? You think if he came here he'd still be alive? You're going to die looking for his remains, you moron." Felix shouts like he would at a child. 

Sylvain breaths out, “I know, I just- It’s been years.”

“What if Hubert was the one to catch you, Sylvain? You would be dead.” He whispers fiercely. 

“Hey, look at the bright side, I’ve met you. You’ve grown up so much.” Sylvain grins, and Felix almost wants to hug him, so he does. His chest hurts, it’s unbelievable that life has reunited them this way, and Felix tightens his hand around Sylvain’s body. How will he let him go after this?

“You have not.” he says as he wraps his arm around Sylvin’s shoulders, just to hear a gasp, followed with a soft-hearted, “Felix.”

“I missed you.” He bites his tongue at the words, regretting them when he hears a chuckle.

“Saints, Felix. It took a lot for you to hug me.” but he caresses his hand against Felix’s back. “This feels a lot like when we were kids.” 

“Shut up, you fool, just get out of here,” Felix says, and lets go of the older man. “Don’t die for his sake. He is merely a corpse.” The words are bitter on his tongue, both he and Sylvain want to believe in every other possibility. 

“Don’t worry Felix, I have a promise to an old friend to keep.” Sylvain winks and carries on, “Will they release my knights?” Sylvain tilts his head in question. 

Felix nods, and orders for them to be freed. 

Sylvain takes off quickly before the sunsets. Riding in the dark isn’t anyone’s favorite, especially in the flames of war. Sylvain forces Felix to promise to exchange letters, although Felix knows who will be first to break his promise, and as typical of Sylvain he proposes to disguise the letter as lovers, separated by war. 

Sylvain keeps his promise, far longer than Felix predicted, a year to be precise before he receives a letter plastered with the line:

_“The corpse lives, Felix. He is alive.”_

When Felix was twelve he believed he lost Dimitri for five hours, and he wept, he wrote letters to the prince and he felt his heart sink for the first time. Five years were brutal in comparison,and ten years later, he does the same as he did when he was twelve.

Felix waits for weeks for another letter. Sylvain doesn’t elaborate, and Felix wants answers. Soon the empire catches rumors of the prince, and distress floats around the army. Dorothea is the first one who delivers the news, she appears at his room late at night, and Felix opens the door hurriedly before anyone hears her knocking. 

"Where were you, I've been searching for you," Dorothea whispers and locks the door behind her. "I've got great news, well, only for us." 

"Out with it Dorothea, people talk if they see you here." He says impatiently. 

"You think me visiting a noble in his room is the worst thing they'd say about me?" She argues, not so pleased with Felix. "Anyhow, Dimitri is alive." She states, happy as if that means any good to the empire. 

Felix hums and reaches his hand to unlock the door, but Dorothea is quick to yank it away. "You don't appear surprised," she questions and studies his face carefully. "You knew?" she exclaims. Felix covers her mouth with his palm, hushing her. 

"Why are you even celebrating it," he asks, removing his hand. 

"We risked our lives for him if you recall. I'm just- glad it wasn't all to waste." She says, and carries on, "Also, they will send you to battle at the Alliance's side, so you'll be busy there." Felix heaves a sigh, he wonders why Dorothea reports to him. Does she have a bigger plot and need him to trust her? Felix doesn't think so, only considers. 

Dorothea asks him if he misses the prince, and Felix kicks her out of his room. 

When hasn't he missed him? Felix had spent his life missing him, even when the boar was between his sheets, he was distant. 

But Dorothea tells him that she hasn't witnessed him halt his training before, not for anything. 'You've isolated yourself, Fe. I believe you earned this little reward,' she says. 

Felix does too, so much so he remembers they'll kill him again in this war. 

A long time ago, when Felix was a child and when the dream of dying for his kingdom was appealing, his father had told him, "We're meant to die for this land and for the king." 

When Felix was naive and too trusting of his father's words, he believed it to be the truth, but the truth was never intended to become a reality. After all, what are the chances of a Fraldarius to die? There was no war and no tragedies. The memory stings now, of when Felix was little and senseless. 

The knight who delivers the awful news grips his father's armor and lance together, along with a letter attached to a familiar sword.

Felix takes a long breath. 

A breath he had held for five years.

Felix takes them from the man's grasp, staring at the armor for a moment, a long moment that the knight asks him if he can take his leave. Felix only nods, puts the gear aside as he moves to lock the door, only to catch a shadow hiding and watching. Bernadetta, he presumes. 

He shuts the door quietly, walks to his desk to sit on the stool next to his father's belongings.

He is all alone in this world now, the only one left of his family.

The walls tighten around his chest, his breathing is rapid and the whole world caves in on him slowly.

If he had stayed, maybe he would still have someone to come back home to. The thought of who could be next frightened him, surely the Goddess wouldn't be that cruel, enough to take whatever Felix has left.

 _Home_ , oh how he misses Fraldarius. 

The memory of their last conversation burns into his head, fresh like a new wound: 

_“I heard you’ve changed your house, Fel-”_

_“It’s true.” Felix is fidgeting with his hands, unusually nervous._

_“Why, did anything upset you?” He asks patiently._

_“It doesn’t concern you.” Felix replies, regretfully sharp-tongued._

_Rodrigue's face falls, he is tired. Felix can discern that much. “Felix, I’m not going to stop you, you know that, but his highness is your friend before he is the prince.”_

_“Why.. why does it matter more than what I want to do?” Felix bites back._

_“It does not.” The simple answer only frustrates Felix._

The old man doesn’t even try, Felix tells himself. He wishes he did, truthfully he wishes someone had stopped him. 

_Rodrigue sighs and walks to where Felix is sitting. He hugs Felix’s head to his middle and Felix wants to push him, spits something full of anger and hate._

_“You’re a good kid, Felix.”_

_Felix holds himself and removes his father’s hands slowly, takes his leave, and does not glance behind. He can almost imagine the hurt look on the man’s face._

They however exchanged letters, until Cornelia declared Dimitri’s execution and his father had nothing to write him. At the time, while Felix was furious with Faerghus, it didn’t matter, nothing did.

When it was time for him to eat dinner with Bernadetta and Dorothea, no one knocked on his door or asked him to join them. 

So Felix carries himself to the only place his head won’t let him break with regret, the pub. 

Very Sylvain of him, he used to taunt for years, just to come to an understanding that he and Sylvain are very similar. 

There is one more thought that doesn’t leave him. He and the boar had never fit their bodies inside each other, a thought that comes to his mind as he is getting fucked in the pub’s filthy restroom by some man with pretty blue eyes and towering height, and if Felix isn’t too careful, he might cry out _his_ name.

Charming knights might've looked like him but they don’t taste like him, feel like him, handle Felix like him. 

But that remorse is for morning Felix, and perhaps then, he will open the letter left with the rest of his grief on the desk, signed by the prince of Faerghus.

And by the morning, Felix has gathered himself enough. He fumbles through the day between condolences and apologies, only to spend the rest of his morning training mindlessly, dueling with Caspar who does not even acknowledge any sort of death, to Felix's luck. 

This day, however, Felix hears the usual knocking by the time they’re served food. the tapping does not stop when Felix says he is coming. “F-Felix, can I come in? It’s Bernie.” He hears the stuttering through the door and says a clear, “yes” for her.

The door opens a jar, creaking a little. The purple-haired girl lets herself in, confusing Felix. She never appeared to be comfortable in someone else’s space, it makes Felix troubled about why she has entered. 

“Felix I, I came here to offer a hug, and possibly company, if you, of course, need one to start with. If you don’t I can-” 

“Just shut it and come here.” He says softly, he doesn’t recognize his voice. 

“I’m sorry about your father,” she starts, seeming quite afraid of Felix’s reaction. 

“It’s fine, he chose that fatal path, he would supposedly be proud of his death. After all, that’s why I left.” 

“Don’t get angry with me but, it looks as if you’re trying to convince yourself. It’s alright to mourn sometimes, Felix.”

“As if I will ever for that idiot of a man.” Felix objects. 

“If you say so.” She agrees, so easily.

“I suppose, I’d prefer it if I attended a burial or if I could… visit his grave.” He says reluctantly, and Berendetta smiles at him, “You will, once all of this is over!” 

“Once all of this is over…” He trails. _Oh, when this will be over; there will be so many graves to visit._

The Fraldarius territory needs someone to rise to his father’s title, Felix is the only one, or he could just abandon it, as he did to his old man. 

At the end of the day, a second son was never meant to be the heir to their house.

“Let’s go eat now,” he urges her, patting a hand to her hair. 

Should've walked on his pride and own feelings for them, he thinks. _Is this all my fault, would he still be alive if I was by their side?_

His eyes stray to the remaining letter staring back at him; maybe tonight he’ll unfold it. 

*

“I’m sorry for your dad Felix,” Sylvain had written. It’s Felix’s guilt and pain only to bear, no one else’s. If he had been on the other side, if he protected his father... He reads more, “It awakened him, he is back, not entirely, but he is trying his best. I can’t seem to forget but I try to, none of us wants to give up on him, we’re the only thing he has left.”

“Join us, Felix, I can’t seem to understand why won’t you return to us.” Sylvain writes alongside the lines that he didn’t tell Dimitri they’ve been exchanging letters, “he’ll be concerned”, he writes “He misses you the most.” he says.

“I’ll even introduce you to some girls once the war is over. Although, I suppose you won’t need that with the king by your side.” _Idiot._

Dimitri won’t ever forgive him. He betrayed the kingdom and he knows better than to ask Dimitri of that, even when his letter stares at him, sealed blue, coated with dust on his desk. 

Hubert brings him along to battle after his father's death is announced across the country, Felix discerns it’s only to make sure his royalty is in place.

What he doesn’t expect is for Dimitri to be on that campaign. 

The chaos of combat begins before Felix grasps what's occurring, but that's just war, it has no time for weakness and emotions. 

He hasn't seen Dimitri for five years, and he can't keep his eyes off him. Dimitri isn't mounting a horse like before, he stays on the ground next to Byleth and Dedue, fighting side by side. 

He has heard stories of the soldiers that saw him in battles, from Hubert and Sylvain. Yet, he can't recognize Dimitri as the one from the academy. He grew, elegantly, befitting of a king. Still, the beast he is, his hair damp with blood running down his neck.

Felix always reunites with him on the battlefield, they have no time for themselves ever. Dimitri doesn't glance his way, focused on that warrior he fights. 

He is tall, taller than in the past, standing prideful like the mountains. The eyepatch he heard stories about is evident. The sight grips at his chest, breathing heavily, and his faint hair already smeared with blood as the rest of him. 

Most importantly, he is alive. 

Before Felix advances on the kingdom's army, Hubert calls for him. "If I fall dead, you retreat." He orders simply and Felix doesn't question him. Hubert only ever thinks of the emperor and her victory. Hubert turns to the army at the front and snarls wickedly, "Let's give the king a royal welcome, shall we?" 

The kingdoms' troop strikes Felix the most, resentful and avenging his father. Felix doesn't blame them, only pities them when they're corpses on the ground in front of him. Dimitri is within his eyesight, and Felix is blinded by him when he is tossed to the ground by a spell. 

To his horror, when he turns his head to the attacker, it's Annette, beautiful, kind, Annette.

"I won't let you pass." She yells, and he knows she won't unless she kills him.

He recovers quickly from her attack, bounces where he is. He spots her easily and ducks another attack coming from her way. "I'm so sorry if I cause you any pain," he hears her sweet voice, and he wishes things were different. If he was defending Annette, because that’s what she deserves, Felix’s throat dries as he realizes the ending of this. He refuses to die here, under Hubert’s command.

"I was going to say the same," he says, only for her to hear. "I'm sorry," he repeats, voice quivering before he shuts his eyes, and delivers a fatal blow at her chest. 

The sound of war quiets for a second, for Annette's soul. 

When Felix forces his eyes open, hurries to her body and oh, beautiful, lovely Annette lays there peacefully, blood-stained yet not so in agony. The grasp on his heart squeezes, almost choking him at the sight. 

Felix learns with time, he has no chance or seconds to lament in combat. He catches the scream of someone, Ashe perhaps, when he realizes her death, and treads through the lifeless bodies. Soon Ashe and Mercedes will rush here.

In the meantime, Felix runs from the nightmare. He senses a heavy gaze on his back, he could recognize it even if he was among the dead. When he searches for him, he stands behind a bridge, directly across from Felix. If someone were to land a poisoned blow on him, he'd be dead, and yet he stands there, honing with the sky-blue eye over Felix. He distinguishes the gaze as appalled, they stand across from each other, defeated and like the monsters they are. 

He had asked Dimitri for them not to fight, for him to have the throne before Felix raises his blade against him. Dimitri holds his gaze for moments, mourning, apologizing, or understanding, he doesn't know what his own eyes say. Despite that, Dimitri raises a spear, positioning it towards Felix. Felix's breath halts. He watches the spear fly from Dimitri's hands, it's easy to dodge and Felix doesn't understand if Dimitri has thrown it in a fit of rage. 

He doesn't spare another glance at Felix, and neither does the swordsman. As soon as he sees the blue cloak drifting away, he goes for another kill.

He moves until he hears another outcry, this time reaching towards him. Bernadetta's voice rings through the ground and Felix looks her way, she is running across to him and waving a sign. 

"Hubert is dead." She weeps. "A spear has gotten him," she clears, eyes pleading to withdraw from here. 

Felix swears under his breath, peers at Dimitri, who appears further away now. He sends the order, "Fall back," he says to Bernadetta, "Retreat!" He hollers the command sharply to the troops. Bernadetta was still crying at his side, quietly so. "Let's go and find a mount, let's get out of here." He tells her. 

That night, Felix is tired. He picks the worn letter on his desk, unwraps it delicately. "I am sorry," is the only thing written on the white of the paper. Felix heaves a sigh and cries for the first time that night since the war has broken.

_“Dear general,_

_Join us, Fe. If you’re afraid that Dimitri will be angry with you, don’t be. He recently got furious when a general called you a traitor, he says he won’t let anyone speak of the son of Rodrigue in that manner. He feels betrayed but he still loves you all the same. I didn’t have the heart to tell you, but before he came to his mind, he wanted you dead and now, he’d ask me if I’d seen you in the battle, if you were well. You always seem to have his highness’ attention, don’t you?_

_I wouldn’t want to kill you in war Fe, I know you’d laugh at me for considering beating you, but I got better with my lance._

_I’ll show you someday._

_Do you want me to tell Dimitri something for you?_

_I can’t believe you let him escape, you’d die to protect him before you’d understand each other._

_Your darling”_

“We don’t have to kill the boar to claim victory, do we,” Felix blurts his question when Dorothea had dragged him to the dining hall with Edelgard. Edelgard stares at him, a strange smile creeping to her face. He meets her gaze, he isn’t afraid of her and a mere suggestion won’t get his head cut. Felix has always been blunt with his opinions. 

“So you are still loyal to your master? Should we capture him alive, keep him hostage so you can let him escape again?” she taunts at him, waiting. Felix’s mouth shut at her words. _So she knows._

His gaze casts on Dorothea. “She didn’t tell me.” Edelgard clarifies, “I’m not stupid, Felix.” She smiles and Felix gets to his feet instantly. Her smile isn’t condescending, she knows Felix will never beg for mercy or apologize. That’s it, he’ll leave the castle by dawn. 

Dorothea’s hand grips at his wrist, “Felix,” she whispers. 

“I’ll consider it,” Edelgard says. Both Felix and Dorothea’s eyes widen at her. As Dorothea frees Felix, he mutters, “Good,” before he flees to his room. 

_That’s as good as a yes._

There are a few days before the kingdom’s army arrives at the capital, Dimitri is leading and it’s either him or the king who gets to live

The kingdom’s blue banners are flying in the bold wind, announcing their arrival. It seems likely that a storm is coming along with the lions.

Before he knows it, Felix yearns to be under it. 

The blue of Felix’s house is different from that of Blaiddyd ’s. 

Felix wanted to be marked with the royal blue like an accolade. The blue of Dimitri was beautiful, on Dimitri’s skin, his blue was that of royalty, it hunts you down. 

It only ever reminded him of happiness and his best memories, always reminded him that Felix is his and in Felix’s very childish dream, he’ll be draped with Dimitri’s blue as they’re announced married. 

He’d come back to Dimitri, under his blue banners he’ll fight again, someday.

Felix doesn’t know why he’d want to go back when he refused the kingdom and its ridiculous traditions and ideals.

Maybe because he knows what it’s like to lose Dimitri now. 

He thought he wanted that, back then. 

The chaos of battle is worse than usual. The goddess chose to bless them with heavy thunder showers, and Felix stands next to Dorothea, Edelgard, and Linhardt. They all watch as soldiers attack each other. Edelgard assigns them to certain wings, and orders Felix to stay by her side. 

Felix hates combat below the pouring rain, it blinds you, and blood doesn’t differ from water at times. The enemies’ blood clings to you until the end of the battle to remind you of the lives you’ve taken, of the monster you are. The rain is a disadvantage in battle, for horses and other mounts, but rain washes off the cries of pain and the screams of death. 

Dorothea presses her lips against Edelgard’s when no one is around to witness it. They whisper to each other hushed words, and Felix waits for Dorothea to let her go, except, once Dorothea lets go, she bounces onto him. “I’ll see you soon.” she hums, and Felix wears a soft smile for her. He cherished Dorothea, she is the best person he has met, and she reminded him much of Ingrid with her green eyes. 

Under Edelgard’s orders Dorothea and Linhardt march through soldiers to lead the top two wings. They disappear beneath the rain and Felix hopes they’ll make it. He watches the fights break out, Edelgard at his side, and Felix wonders how things came to this. 

Meanwhile, it feels like they’re having a disadvantage against the kingdom knights. Edelgard falls still, he knows she has different plans for herself. “If I let you capture your king alive, how would you repay me?” Edelgard breaks the silence, and Felix’s head whirls fast as the wind over where she stands. Either he’ll trust her or he is doomed. She recognizes Dimitri’s value to Felix, not to the kingdom, she understands that she can get anything out of Felix. Yet, he doesn’t seem to care. If that’s the price to save the boar from death and from his kingdom, then be it. If he will be Felix’s, then be it. 

“Name it,” He urges.

"You'll give me Fraldarius, if anything goes wrong I'll kill both of you." She says, "Just make him surrender and I'll grant you the order." 

Felix nods. "You have my word." 

He darts to the nearest mount he can ride. His heart at his throat, he'll have to tell the soldiers of the new command, they'll let Dimitri survive, Felix can save him, he _will_ save him, and that will be the last time he suffers Dimitri placing his life in danger, the last time his heart throbs with pain at every campaign. 

The horse he finds is alone, waiting for him. Felix smiles at the horse, it seems to recognize him and not be scared, only bothered by the heavy dripping sound of rain. It permits Felix to mount him effortlessly, and Felix starts, racing through everyone. He speeds to the west wing, where Bernadetta leads and commands. 

He screams her name, but no one answers. If he can't find her, he'll move to the next leader to announce the order. However, this side troubles Felix, many soldiers are wiped out. Felix roams with his horse alone soaking wet. The water has sunk the corpses under him, but there is no sign of life around, only blurred cries. 

When Felix advances further, he hears a distinct shriek, perhaps a soldier stuck in the water and he runs to him. The soldier waves his hands to Felix and calls loudly, but Felix still can't hear through the rainfall, so he nears him. “General!” the soldier calls cheerfully, he looks a mess, nevertheless, a happy mess given that they’re in a war. Felix halts his horse to listen for what he has to say, maybe he’ll let him know where his commander is; Felix has new orders: spare the king. Felix heads towards him. 

“Tell me.” Felix yells. 

“The king of Faerghus has fallen! He is dead, general!” 

Felix can’t mask his wrath nor the quiver of his voice when he asks who did it, who killed Dimitri. _Who is strong enough to take Dimitri down?_

_Who did it, so I can avenge him._

“The army, your grace. He wiped out most of us, there are three left guarding his corpse.” The soldier says, proud and knowing there will be a reward for that. Too bad he has fallen into Felix’s hand. 

“Have you told anyone yet?” Felix asks, his throat is dry, forcing all of Dorothea’s acting lessons out. _Stable your voice, Felix._

“No, I’ve come to tell her majesty, I can return to help my comrades now, I’m certain this is the end of the battle.” He says, and oh so pleasantly.

“I’m certain too, you seem injured, let me heal you first.” Felix hums his answer, and the soldier stands at arm’s length across from him. “You're too kind, sir,” he thanks. 

With cold blood, Felix stabs through his neck, thrusts and twists the blade through his throat. He watches as pain casts on his face, shock and disbelief as his soul leaves. When Felix pulls the sword, the soldier’s lifeless body falls to the ground, along with the water drops that wash the wound.

Felix will have to kill three more, he’ll kill whoever spread those lies, _Dimitri is alive_ , Felix gnashes his teeth, _Dimitri can’t die_ , he can not take the last thing Felix has. ‘ _The dead won't acknowledge your loyalty,’_ he has said, over and over, so why does he want to offer the men’s heads to Dimitri? Felix feels as if his teeth are crushed when he grits them.

Why does Felix feel like vomit would burst from his stomach?

Felix will pick him up, and they’ll head back, he’ll heal Dimitri, once, twice, and however many it takes. 

He rides his horse and pulls wrong at the reins, the horse is unstable and it leaps. Felix holds for dear life at the reins until it calms down. He swipes a hand to its head, stroking gently and within seconds it starts again. 

Felix catches the sight of three men of arms standing without any mounts, waiting for something, and Felix sees red. 

He speeds, and before he arrives, he knows how they’ll receive their death. He’ll cut through them from behind, maybe he’ll only be able to take two down, and he’ll fight the last, and Felix prizes in a fight. Felix holds Dimitri’s favorite sword, the one made by Zoltan. It’s still bloodied with their companion’s blood and oddly, it doesn’t sicken Felix. 

Before he knows it, there are two bodies dead on the ground. The last man tries to escape but Felix is fast, he strangles him with the horse’s reins, and when the soldier’s hand twitches, trying to reach for life, Felix drives his sword through it.

Maybe Dimitri is right about the dead, they make you crazed. 

Even when the rain blinds Felix’s sight, the sound of it filling the frightening sound of corpses, Dimitri is easy to spot among the ground with his blue bright armor, though most of it is buried in the mud and Areadbhar glistening to his side. “Boar…” Felix’s voice wobbles at the body on the ground, his eyes blown wide, bewildered, his mouth lingering apart while his knees collapse to the mud. Felix is trained for moments like this, to heal, to rescue and bring back to life. He takes off his gloves swiftly, it’s said that they can hinder some magic and he can’t take any chances. Felix’s knees crawl near the head of the king, he brings the back of Dimitri to hold against his chest, and Dimitri is heavy, but he weighs, and his heart weighs, still beating as Felix presses two fingers to Dimitri’s neck. 

_Sothis and saints_ , his heart flutters and Felix can breathe again.

It’s faint, slow, but Felix can work with it, he is desperate to find any flickers of life. It seems that they’ve worn him out with arrows, possibly poisoned, and then when he couldn’t stand any longer someone must’ve thrust their weapon into him. Dimitri is drenched on him with water and blood, it’s hard to cut through his armor to heal the wound, however, Felix succeeds to carve a circle around it. The wound is on display for him now, the dried blood surrounding it is in contrast with Dimitri’s pale skin, undeserving of such a cut. Felix starts working on his faith. “I’ll heal you, so don’t die on me,” he whispers to his lap sternly. He uses his healing once, twice, thrice. 

On the tenth try, Felix’s crest activates. It flashes through the rain and the gloomy clouds above them like lighting while Dimitri’s heart slows down frighteningly, and Felix is only able to repeat a prayer. “Heal Dimitri, please heal,” he knows the Goddess hates him, has rejected him his entire life but he only _hopes_. 

On the twenty-fifth try, Felix’s body is ready to give up on him. He watches tears stream on Dimitri’s face and Felix doesn’t recognize them as his own before he wipes them from the king’s bloodied cheeks. Felix’s fingers tremble on his cheeks, brushing his golden-red filthy hair away. “Dimitri…” he squeals, like a kid, brittle and quivering. 

The rain washes Dimitri’s face, and with his hair soaked away, with Felix’s hands on him, he looks like the kid from his childhood, innocent and pure. He stares at him, stares because he knows Dimitri always saves a long speech for moments like this, so he stares. “Speak you damned boar, please… please speak,” Felix cries.

He heals him again, he raises the king’s face to rest on his shoulder and reaches for Dimitri’s clawed hand, dirty with blood. He places it on his cheeks, feeling the blood smear on his face, yet he presses harder on his face with Dimitri’s hand. 

“Dima…” Felix begs to the hand and echoes his name again and again, with promises, with empty words that could convince Dimitri to fight for his life, Felix heals again. 

Until Dimitri's large hand, so light Felix thinks he imagined it, squeezes.

“Dimitri,” Felix cries and kisses the hand, and along the king’s wrist, he kisses along the wet cheeks, and on his mouth, if he can feel Dimitri, if he can hold Dimitri, Dimitri stays, among the living and under the rain. Felix cards his fingers between his long strands and he kisses until he feels the halt of his heart.

Felix tangles his body with Dimitri’s. His sword is within the scabbard, settled against Dimitri’s chest, ready for anyone who dares enough to take the king away from him. Dimitri was gone, but he’ll not be stolen from him. 

It’s Linhardt and his formation who finds him first. He asks Felix to unravel from his position, just to meet two fierce scarlet eyes. They don’t know how weary Felix’s body is on him; they don’t know how much his crest drained him, though they know that Felix can take them all out on a good day. 

It wasn’t a good day. 

But Felix has made his decision. The second Dimitri ceased to live, he’d follow him into the dark. Felix will never belong to life without Dimitri, Dimitri knows that too; he knows the way Felix’s face would crumble to weep whenever he’d take to long to find him when playing hide and seek, he knows Felix would chase his ghost the same way Dimitri did for years, he knows he had cursed Felix for the longest time, he knows Felix would follow him wherever. 

If it meant to be by his side, Felix would welcome death with him. 

“Come on, Felix. You don’t want to do this.” Linhardt says, snapping him out of his head. Linhardt looks _bored,_ just wanting to be done with this. The men behind him are eager to fight, it’s their victory Felix is holding. Felix doesn’t trust Dimitri in their hands.

Felix glares daggers at him. “or what,” He hisses, a possessive grip tightening on Dimitri’s chest. 

Felix notices the kingdom knights approaching them, he sees the calming red hair from across the battle. Definitely not Annette, Felix had cut her. 

_Sylvain._

Sylvain will take Dimitri’s body, he’ll bury it as it deserves, Sylvain who loves Dimitri so dearly like he never did another, will protect his body. 

“Felix, don’t make this harder,” Linhardt steps to Felix’s zone to take Dimitri, and Felix gets to his feet to lunge at him. His sword is in one hand, and Felix wishes his armor was in the other. He knows this is a lost battle, still, he won’t fall without a fight; He has promised himself no less than an honorable death. 

“Fall back, you idiot!” He hears a scream, faint through the noise of the unrelenting rain, but it distinctly belongs to Sylvain.

It’s too late when Felix stalks off to yield his sword, and before he sees it, crossbows drift around him, driving through Felix’s armor, piercing his chest. 

Felix wishes he has the will to keep standing, but he falls and recognizes, this is the end. 

He had told Dimitri, someday they'll die together, Felix has imagined that day differently. Tender blue sheets around them, after decades and decades of living, decades of showing Dimitri his true feelings, kissing, and serving his body. Only after that will Felix allow them to pass, when their hands have learned their way to each other, to hold each other even in their deathbed. Yet, the Goddess had other plans, Felix’s fingers are heavy when they try to reach for Dimitri’s hands through the mud. Dimitri’s body is cold and dead and Felix’s will be soon like that. The pouring rain worsened, Felix wishes to brush off the stuck hair from his forehead, he wishes he can glance one more time at Dimitri. If someone kicks his head to the side, he can. If he gathered his might, he can. 

When he turns his head towards Dimitri with what’s left in his strength, he smiles. Dimitri is beautiful, even when he lies dead, mud, blood, and raindrops streaking him, Felix wants to reach and kiss him. Yet, he only stares at him and admires what he had lost.

He wonders if his brother is proud of him, or if he thinks of him low. If he pities his death, if they’ll meet soon, maybe there is a possibility and his lips twitch at the thought. If he does see him, that only means he’ll have to talk with his father too and he knows his old man will have his laughs as he mocks Felix’s death. He wonders if Dimitri would smile when he learns of Felix’s death at his side, and Felix knows he’ll be angry with him for it but he shuts his eyes as he muses over it. 

Felix kept his promise, they’re here together at last. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking to the end!! Comments and kudos are appreciated, I'm [Aisha](https://twitter.com/vantespick) , we can rant about dmlx anytime!


End file.
